Chapter 37, Picking up the Pieces
by lmb3
Summary: UPDATED - The battle is over. The prophecy fulfilled. For Harry life must go on. Harry must face his demons, and come to terms with the loss of so many people and the guilt over their deaths. He must try to find the future he never thought he would have.
1. Part I

**Chapter 37, Picking up the Pieces**

**By**

**Lewis M. Brooks, III**

**Description**

The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead. The prophecy has been fulfilled, and for Harry Potter, life must go on. Harry must face his demons, and try to come to terms with the loss of so many people, and the guilt over their deaths. He must try to find the future he never thought he'd have.

**Author's Note**

I loved Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, as I did all the books in the series, but I couldn't help feeling like there should have been a little more to the story, one more chapter before the epilogue, to tell the story of how Harry deals with the aftermath of fulfilling his destiny, coming to terms with those he lost, and trying to let go of his guilt. I tried to fit this exactly into canon, including the elements that J.K. Rowling has talked about in interviews that were not included in the epilogue. Although originally meant to be a single chapter, it ended up being much longer.

This is my final revision of this story (I hope). I would like to thank my Betas, XxXV1kk1XxX on , and Rachel, PenguinsWillReignSupreme on the forums, for all their hard work.

**Chapter 37 – Picking up the Pieces, Part I**

Harry crawled through the portrait hole, wincing at the dull ache in his extremities. He slowly looked around the empty Gryffindor common room. Harry hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. The brilliant red and gold seemed to radiate inviting warmth even though the room was cold. Just being there seemed to ease the soreness and fatigue that enveloped his entire body. He couldn't help but smile.

Harry was exhausted. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept. After they left the Headmaster's Office, Ron and Hermione had gone back down to the celebration. Although it had been a long time since they had slept as well, they weren't all that tired.

Harry smiled slightly. He had noticed that Ron and Hermione had been holding hands as they left him to return to the Great Hall. They were meant to be together. Harry had known that a long time ago, and he was very happy for them. Maybe they would finally stop arguing all the time. Of course, that was unlikely, and he wasn't really sure they would still be Ron and Hermione if they stopped their incessant quarrelling.

Harry sighed. It was finally over. Voldemort wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else ever again. It should have been a reassuring thought, but it gave Harry little comfort.

He couldn't help thinking about all those who had died during the final battle. He tried not to. He tried to concentrate on anything else, but their faces flooded his mind like a deluge he felt would drown him. Fred. Remus. Tonks. Colin. Snape. There were so many.

A few hours ago, if he had been told that it would be the sallow face and greasy black hair of Severus Snape that troubled him most, he would never have believed it. After all of his hatred towards Snape, Snape had been a hero. Harry thought Snape might have been the bravest person he had ever met, or ever would meet. Dumbledore had been right about Snape after all, and Harry had always doubted him. He should have had more faith in Dumbledore. Dumbledore had the wisdom of his entire life to draw on. Of course he had known best. One more thing to lament in a lifetime of regret, Harry thought.

The wizarding world called Harry Potter 'The Boy Who Lived'. Harry thought that was ironic. Had he ever really lived, he wondered? He knew even as he formed the thought that he was ignoring all the good times he had with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, the Weasleys, and Hagrid: playing Quidditch, spending time at The Burrow, getting beaten at wizard chess by Ron, and just being with the people who meant so much to him. It was hard to think of those things when there were so many other terrible memories. They flowed through his mind like a river of torment, spilling over its banks with death, despair, and loss. Maybe they should have called him, 'The Boy Who Existed'? Surely this wasn't living.

Harry tried to shake off his thoughts. He lit the fire. Its warmth was soothing to his battered body. He went to a desk in the corner of the room. He found some parchment, a quill, and ink, which were probably left by a student up late doing homework when the battle began. He had a letter he had to write. Putting it off wouldn't make it any easier.

_Dear Mrs. Tonks,_

_I'm so sorry about Nymphadora and Remus. I know how hard this must be for you, and can't be made any easier by the loss of your husband. Nymphadora was a great friend. Remus was like a second godfather to me. I regret I never got to tell them what they meant to me. I'll never forget them._

_I want you to know, I will always be there for Teddy. I'm his godfather, and I know how much my godfather meant to me. He told me a lot about my parents that I would never have known without him. I'll make sure Teddy knows how great his parents were and how much they loved him._

Harry paused, thinking about what Remus said to him in the forest, and the best way to write it without having to explain about the Resurrection Stone. He knew that Mrs. Tonks had been informed that they had been killed, but he knew she wasn't told of the specific details of the battle. A single tear trickled down Harry's cheek, splashing on the corner of the parchment. Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, steadying himself, then went back to writing.

_I spoke to Remus just before he died. He told me he was sorry he wouldn't be there to see Teddy grow up, but that he had died trying to make a world in which Teddy could live a happier life. I will make sure Teddy always remembers that. I would like to see him soon, if that would be all right. Please give Teddy my love._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James Potter_

Harry yawned and shook his head to clear away the fog of sleep that was quickly descending on him. He folded up the parchment and got up, but stopped, frozen as if he were a statue. He hadn't even realized where he was going when he stood up, but now he did. Exhaustion was getting the better of him. He had been going to give the letter to Hedwig to deliver. It was almost a year ago that Hedwig died, the same night Mad-Eye Moody did, just days before Harry's seventeenth birthday. His seventeenth birthday should have been an enjoyable event, but the loss had been too fresh in his mind for it to be really happy. Harry thought that every time he sent an owl for the rest of his life he would think of his loyal friend, the beautiful owl that Hagrid had given him for his eleventh birthday. Birthdays were supposed to be happy, but they only reminded Harry of everyone who wasn't there to share them with him.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but realized immediately what he was about to say. Lack of sleep and physical exhaustion were playing cruel tricks on him now. He almost laughed at the terrible irony of it. Dobby would have taken the letter to the Owlery for him, but of course, Dobby was gone too. Harry knew that he, Ron and Hermione would never have escaped from Malfoy Manor without Dobby's help. That little elf had sacrificed himself to save their lives. The guilt Harry felt was like an icy knife in his heart twisting itself deeper with each passing minute. It felt like a piece of his soul had been ripped away every time he lost someone, leaving a gaping wound behind that Harry did not think could ever heal.

How many had died? His parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hedwig, Mad-Eye, Dobby, Snape, Tonks, Remus, Fred, had all lost their lives. How many others died, or suffered? How many families had been ripped apart?

Colin Creevey was just sixteen years old, and worshiped Harry. He felt terrible for being annoyed with Colin's hero worship all those years. Colin never even had a chance to live. Harry was sure that when Colin snuck into the battle, he was thinking, 'I have to fight, that's what Harry Potter would do'.

How much had the Weasley family suffered? They had lost a brother, a son. George lost an ear. Bill was terribly scarred by Fenrir Greyback's attack last year. Though she rarely spoke of it, he knew Ginny would never forget the horrors of her first year at Hogwarts and the Chamber of Secrets. Ron was poisoned because he accidentally took a love potion that was meant for Harry. Mr. Weasley had nearly died two years ago when Nagini attacked him. Though Harry would often be reminded by everyone how he saved Mr. Weasley's life, and Ron's, and Ginny's, he knew he was the reason they were in danger in the first place. It was his fault. Would he ever be able to forgive himself, Harry wondered? Could they forgive him? Did he deserve to be forgiven? Did he even want to be?

The battle was over; shouldn't he be able to be happy that the prophecy no longer hung over his head like a death sentence? Shouldn't he be happy that the monster that murdered his parents was dead?

How could he be happy? The pain overwhelmed any happiness he could muster. Harry wondered if the feeling of loss, emptiness, and guilt would ever go away as he reached up and felt the broken shard of Sirius' mirror inside the pouch that hung around his neck. Maybe it shouldn't go away, he thought. Maybe that would be his penance for all his mistakes, and all the pain he had caused others, that the pain would never go away.

"Kreacher," Harry called out to the empty room.

With a 'pop,' the house elf was in front of him. He had Regulus' locket, a gift from Harry, hanging around his neck.

"What can I do for you, Harry Potter?" asked the house elf with a smile.

Harry handed the letter to Kreacher. "Please owl this to Mrs. Andromeda Tonks," said Harry. "It's very important."

"Of course," replied the elf, with a slight scowl. Kreacher had obviously not forgotten that the Black family had disowned Andromeda. "Do you require anything else?"

"No…I just want to thank you Kreacher," said Harry, as the little elf looked up at him. "I saw you lead the house elves in the attack on the Death Eaters. That was very brave of you." Harry paused. "Regulus would be proud of you."

"Master Regulus would have done the same," said Kreacher proudly, as he held his head up high. "Kreacher could do no less." The elf paused. "Will Harry Potter be returning to Grimmauld Place?"

"At some point," sighed Harry. "I'm not sure when. I have some things to pick up." Harry didn't know what to do with his godfather's home. Perhaps he would just give it to the Order of the Phoenix permanently. There were too many memories for him to ever be able to live there.

Kreacher bowed and with a 'pop' was gone.

I should have asked him to bring me a sandwich, Harry thought. Though he was hungry, he was far more tired. It was almost noon, but Harry hadn't slept in so long, he couldn't even remember.

Harry walked to the couch in front of the fire, and sat down, he just planned to sit for a few minutes then shower and go to bed. He still wore the unmistakable signs of the battle they had just fought. As he looked at the flames, he tried to push the despair out of his heart and his mind and focused his thoughts on the living. He thought about his friends.

Harry almost couldn't believe that the same Neville Longbottom who fainted at the cry of a Mandrake during second year could have stood up to Voldemort the way he did. He had been a good friend to Harry, and had done so much to support him this past year. Harry was proud of Neville.

Professor McGonagall was more than a teacher. The scream she let out when she saw him in Hagrid's arms still echoed in his mind. Though she always kept her distance from her students, she really cared about them, and Harry knew that he wasn't just another student to her. Any other head of house would have expelled him for the flying car stunt all those years ago.

Hagrid was his first friend. Harry felt terrible that he had made Hagrid believe he was dead. Harry couldn't imagine how excruciating that walk back from the forest was for him, not to mention seeing Voldemort use the Avada Kedavra to kill him. Harry could still remember the pain in Hagrid's voice as they returned from the forest.

There were so many friends and professors he wanted to see, just to thank them for everything they had done. He had seen so many of them during the celebration, but he just wanted a quiet moment to say thank you. The celebration was so chaotic after Voldemort fell, he was completely unsure of whom he had and hadn't seen.

There were so many people who had been there for him. So many people he cared about. People he loved. Harry never told any of them how he felt about them. Harry felt the weight of all the things he should have said pressing down on him, not to mention the burden of his guilt and the pain of losing so many people. He was surprised he could breathe at all.

It felt like his whole life had been spent keeping people at arm's length, never wanting to get too close for fear the people he cared for would be hurt or killed. Sometimes, he would almost think that life as a virtual slave to the Dursleys would have been so much better, so much easier.

There is nothing to be scared of anymore, Harry thought.

He had so many things he wanted to say to the people he loved, but he had never been any good at expressing his feelings. He had always been scared to express them.

Ron and Hermione were more than best friends. He loved them both so much. They had risked everything to help him and he'd never really said it to them.

The Weasleys were the family he never had. He could not help but think of the awful things he had brought into their lives, and the terrible price they had paid. They had stood by him and supported him no matter what had happened.

Then there was Ginny. Harry smiled as he thought of Ginny. When he told Ron and Hermione what he had seen in the Pensieve and what happened in the forest, he had left out one small detail. That detail was for Ginny alone.

Harry craved the feeling of her lips against his again, to smell her, to taste her, to touch her. He had never told her how he really felt. He never said the words he wanted to say most. He couldn't, not before with the future so uncertain.

Now it was different. Harry had to tell her how he felt, and could only hope that she felt the same way, and that she could forgive him for all he had put her through.

Harry couldn't help but think what if she couldn't forgive him? What would he do then?

It all threatened to overwhelm Harry. He felt like a war was going on inside him. On the one side, the pain, loss, guilt, and emptiness for all the people who he had lost, for all the people he had let down, who might be alive if they had not had the misfortune of having Harry Potter come into their lives. On the other side were all the people who he still had. All the people he cared for and loved, and the future he hoped to have.

It all hurt so much he thought his heart would explode.

Harry didn't realize just how tired he was. Before he knew it, his head fell back against the top of the couch, and he slipped into sleep.

As Harry slept, he dreamed. Harry dreamed of things he wanted to say. Things he wanted to say to Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the Weasleys. Things he wanted to say to Dumbledore. It was like his subconscious was telling him it was okay to feel for the first time in his life, that he didn't have to be afraid of his feelings anymore. But through it all, he could still feel the despair, as if lying in wait to pounce on him like a snake, coiled around his heart, and looking for its opportunity to strike. A snake not even the Sword of Gryffindor could destroy.

Harry opened his eyes. The dream was fresh, the good and the bad. He tried to push out the bad memories out that threatened to overwhelm him. Today would be the day to say all those things he should have said before to the people that mattered most. He had to concentrate on that and do it, no matter how hard it might be.

It took only a moment for him to realize two things. The sun coming through the windows seemed to indicate it was late morning. He must have been asleep for nearly a full day, which was not hard to imagine given how exhausted he had been.

He also realized he wasn't alone.

Harry didn't even have to lift his head up and look down to know who was on the couch beside him. He knew it was Ginny next to him. As soon as he had opened his eyes, he could smell the flowery scent that was so uniquely Ginny. He could feel her small frame leaning against him. As he lifted his head he saw the beautiful ginger hair against his shoulder and it brought a smile to his face. She was snuggled up against him. He could feel her warmth, and it felt better than the fire ever could. He moved to put his arm around her shoulders, and she woke with a start.

"Harry!" exclaimed Ginny with a gasp, scrambling to her feet so fast that Harry jumped. "I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep."

"It's all right," said Harry, bewildered at her reaction. Why was she so upset?

"I just came to check on you, I'll go," said Ginny, turning to leave.

Harry sat forward and grabbed her wrist gently. "Wait, don't go," pleaded Harry. "What's wrong, Ginny?"

"It's okay, Harry. I understand if you don't want me here," said Ginny in an unreadable tone. Her expression betrayed nothing of what she was feeling.

"Why wouldn't I want you here?" asked Harry in surprise. What could possibly have given her the idea that he didn't want her around? It was quite the opposite, he could think of nothing better to have woken up to than her being next to him.

Ginny looked at the ground, and Harry could see that her eyes were red from crying. He was sure she had already cried a river for her brother, and it was only the beginning.

Harry was still gently holding her wrist. When Ginny spoke, the words came out strained as if speaking them aloud was making them real. "I just assumed…you didn't want me around. I heard what you said to…Voldemort," said Ginny softly. "You went into the forest to die." She paused, blinking back tears that were threatening to overwhelm her. "You didn't…you didn't say goodbye. I assumed you didn't…want to see me," she finished softly, the pain clearly audible in her voice and in her eyes. Tears were starting to leak from her eyes.

Harry's heart sank. He should have known. He had hurt her again. Maybe it was already too late to tell her how he felt. What if he had lost his chance at happiness?

Harry gently pulled her down into his lap, and hugged her to him. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him back. Harry could feel her tears on his neck, and how fast her heart was beating. He just held her for a few moments gently stroking her hair. He loved the feeling of holding her in his arms again.

After a few moments, he pulled her up to look into her eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes he couldn't ever get enough of looked back at him, filled with so many different emotions.

"Ginny, when I realized that I would have to die at Voldemort's hands, I knew it was what I had to do," whispered Harry softly. He paused and took a steadying breath. "When I was leaving the grounds under my Invisibility Cloak, I saw you. You were helping a girl who had been injured in the battle. I wanted so much to hold you and say goodbye." He paused again, fighting back his own tears. "I knew if I did, I would never have been able to go, and I had to go. It was the only way. I'm so sorry Ginny. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you." He paused again, looking away. "I've hurt you so much. You deserve better."

"I felt you were there," whispered Ginny, more to herself than him. She shook her head slightly after talking to herself and turned her attention back to him. "After the battle, there was a moment, when I felt like you were close."

Harry took another deep breath, and forced himself to meet her gaze again. "I broke up with you to protect you…and I hurt you. I left to find the Horcruxes…and I hurt you. I didn't say goodbye…and that hurt you," said Harry. He had a lump in his throat, and was no longer able to hold back the tears. He looked in Ginny's eyes as tears fell from them as well. "Can you ever forgive me, Ginny?" Harry looked away from her again. How could he have hurt her so much? He didn't deserve to be forgiven. He didn't even deserve to ask her if she would, but he couldn't help himself.

"There is nothing to forgive, Harry," replied Ginny softly without any hesitation. She put her hand to his chin and lifted his face to meet her gaze again.

Harry could see it in her eyes. She meant it. But he still felt she was so wrong. He had caused her so much pain, and taken so much from her. "How can you just forgive me like that?" asked Harry, tears still rolling down his cheeks. "I don't deserve it. Fred is dead…and it's my fault."

The look in her eyes changed immediately. He could tell he had said the wrong thing, and Ginny's infamous temper was about to show itself.

"Harry James Potter, I swear, if you ever say that again, I'll hex you into oblivion," growled Ginny through gritted teeth, her anger feeling like something tangible crackling like electricity in the air around them. "It is not your fault that Fred…" the last word stuck in her throat. Harry pulled her into a tight embrace and felt her shudder at what she was going to say. He held her for a few moments, and then she pulled back and continued, the anger gone from her voice and her eyes. "It is not your fault Fred died. He died fighting for what he thought was right. He fought for all of us, and would do so again. Voldemort is responsible for all of this, not you." She paused. He could see how much it hurt her that he blamed himself. He was hurting her again. "Harry, promise me, you'll never say that it is your fault again. Promise me you will not blame yourself for all the bad things anymore. Think of all the people you have saved. You saved me, you saved my father, and you saved Ron. I know it was you that cast the protection charm that saved my mother from Voldemort. Think of all the good, and don't blame yourself for the bad. I just want you to be all right."

Harry leaned his forehead against hers. She didn't really understand. She couldn't understand what he was feeling, not really. No one could really understand what it was like.

Harry wanted to make the promise, but he wasn't sure he would ever be able to stop blaming himself. He didn't know if he would ever be all right. He had no idea how to go on after all that had happened. He wished it were, but it just wasn't that easy not to blame himself. The guilt felt like it would drown him. It felt like it was latched onto his soul, a part of him, and nothing would ever remove its stranglehold on him.

"I'll make a deal with you," said Harry softly, looking deep into her eyes. "I promise I'll try not to blame myself, and you promise you'll be there to remind me when I forget." Another tear rolled down his cheek.

Ginny leaned close to him and hugged him. "Do we have a deal?" whispered Harry. He could feel her nod into his shoulder. She held on so tight, Harry could barely breathe, but he didn't care, he just wanted to be close to her. He hoped one day that he might keep his promise and that he would be able to stop blaming himself. He hoped that one day he would be all right, but he knew that wouldn't happen soon. He had to wonder if it would ever really happen at all.

"Harry," breathed Ginny, into his ear, still holding him tight, "when I saw Hagrid carrying you out of the forest, I thought you were dead. We all did. I felt like I was going to die, like some part of me was lying dead on the ground next to you at Voldemort's feet. I felt that if Voldemort killed me where I stood, it would be far less cruel than making me live another moment without you."

The pain in her voice cut into his very soul. "I'm so sorry, Ginny. There was no other way," said Harry softly.

"I know you are," replied Ginny. "I know you didn't have a choice. You did what you had to do. I don't blame you."

Harry nodded. He knew he didn't have a choice, but that didn't change what he had put her through.

Harry knew that now was the time to tell her how he felt. Harry pulled her back from him a little and looked into her eyes. "When Voldemort was about to kill me in the forest, the last thought I had was of you, Ginny. The last thought I thought I would ever have, was of how it feels when you kiss me. I think that's what gave me the strength to come back. It gave me the strength to beat him. I love you Ginny," said Harry. "My heart is yours forever." Harry wasn't quite sure where that last part had come from, but it was the truth.

Harry could tell his declaration had caught her a little off guard, but he could already see the response in her beautiful eyes. "I love you too," said Ginny, another tear sliding down her cheek. "I've loved you for a long time, Harry." Harry reached up and brushed the tear away gently and he smiled, his fingers lingering on her cheek. He could not even describe the feeling of warmth that came over him, the feeling of love. He pulled her to him and kissed her. Harry never would have believed something as simple as a kiss could communicate so much.

The future was before him, clear as if he was watching it in a movie. Someday he would marry her. He could see it. He could see their children, and their grandchildren, the family he had always wanted and had never had, but the thought was short lived, as the fog of guilt began to roll in, and he pushed aside his thoughts of the future and just reveled in the kiss that he had craved for so long, in the memory that had saved his life, in the love he had found at last.

Harry wasn't sure how long the kiss went on. Eventually the need for oxygen overwhelmed them and they broke apart. They smiled at each other. Harry could see the love radiating from her beautiful brown eyes like a beacon of hope at the end of a cold dark tunnel. He pulled her close, hugging her tightly, burying his face in her beautiful ginger hair, and drinking in her flowery scent. They sat there for a few minutes just holding each other. He never wanted to let go.

As they sat, Harry realized how quiet it was. Surely at this time of day someone must be around, he thought. "Where is everyone?" Harry whispered in her ear.

"The party lasted a long time," replied Ginny. "Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall around 6:00 o'clock yesterday and said they were coming back to the tower. I assume they are asleep. Mum, Dad, and the rest of the family went back to The Burrow. Mum wanted me to go back too, but I told her I was staying here. I just wanted to make sure you were all right, Harry. I sat down on the couch with you. I just wanted to be near you, just for a minute. I must have fallen asleep."

"I'm glad you did," said Harry with a smile. "Where is everyone else?" There had been an awful lot of people in the Great Hall when he had left them the day before.

"I think a lot of people went home, but those who stayed were going to use Ravenclaw Tower, I think," Ginny informed him. "McGonagall thought that the three of you could use some space."

"I'll have to remember to thank her," said Harry with a smile, remembering how Luna had helped him escape the celebration yesterday. Space was just what he had needed yesterday, time away from everyone.

They sat there for a few minutes kissing when they heard someone coming down the stairs from the boys' dormitory. He and Ginny both looked toward the stairs expecting to see Ron, and were surprised to see Ron and Hermione coming down the stairs together holding hands.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, then back to Ron and Hermione with amused expressions. A suggestive smirk crept onto Ginny's face. "So what have you two been up to?" she asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. The suggestion in her voice was so obvious, even Ron noticed.

Ron's face turned redder than his hair. It was even redder than Uncle Vernon's face when he was upset. Harry wasn't sure there was a word to describe the colour of Ron's face at that moment. Harry tried to suppress a laugh, but the grin spread across his face anyway.

"You're awful," said Hermione with a grin. "We were talking, and we…fell asleep."

"If that's your story," said Harry sarcastically, shaking his head in feigned disbelief.

Ron quickly changed the subject. "So do you guys want to come down to the Great Hall with us?" suggested Ron, as he rubbed his stomach. "I'm starving."

Harry thought for a moment of the dream he had had. He had some things he wanted to do today, and there was no sense in putting them off. "Would you guys mind waiting a minute," said Harry. Harry slid Ginny off his lap and onto the couch, immediately regretting no longer holding her. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and walked over to his two best friends.

"I need to say some things," stammered Harry, standing a few feet from them wringing his hands nervously. Somehow he didn't remember being this nervous in his dream, when the words just flowed out. It wasn't so easy doing it for real. "I don't know how I can ever thank you both for what you've done," he said with a little more confidence. "I've never told you what you mean to me."

"You don't…" began Hermione, but Harry cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Yes I do," declared Harry with conviction. "I've thought a lot lately about that day we met on the train. It seems like it was a million years ago. It's hard to believe it was only seven years ago." Harry wasn't sure exactly what to say, so he just spoke from his heart. "I've often wondered what it would have been like if my parents had lived. I think they probably would have had more children. I would have had brothers or sisters. Voldemort…he took that away." Harry paused, he knew his eyes betrayed the sadness of his statement, but he didn't care. "I grew up with my cousin Dudley who hated me. Torturing me was his favorite sport." Harry paused again, blinking back tears. "That day we met on the train…I found the brother and sister I never had. It just took me a while to realize it, and I've never said it." There was no holding back the tears now. "I love you both, and words can never express what you both mean to me."

The words were barely out of his mouth, when Hermione threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. She was crying, as if she had been waiting years to hear those words. Harry returned the hug. Ron put his arms around both of them, tears in his eyes. They stayed that way for several minutes in silent affirmation that they felt the same way, and then they pulled apart. Ginny came over and put an arm around Harry.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Harry," proclaimed Hermione as she wiped away her tears. "If it wasn't for you I might have never taken my nose out of a book long enough to know there is more to life than books." She reached out and took Ron's hand.

"Me too, mate," said Ron. He grinned. "Well…not the book part, but you know what I mean."

They all laughed. Harry thought it felt great to laugh, to really laugh. He could hardly remember a time when he could laugh without his destiny clouding the feeling.

"Why don't you all go down to the Great Hall, and I'll join you in a bit. I want to shower and change," said Harry, though he suddenly realized he would have to have Kreacher get him some clothes from The Burrow. He hadn't even remembered he didn't have anything in the dormitory.

Hermione nodded, still trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She took Ron by the hand, headed for the portrait hole.

The hot shower eased Harry's aching muscles. He felt almost normal again, but as he stood in the shower, water cascading over him, the great feeling he had when he was with Ginny started to melt away. As hot as the water was, he felt cold inside, as if the snake of despair around his heart was preparing to strike.

Harry went back to his dorm room to get dressed. Kreacher had not only brought him clothes from The Burrow, but he had neatly laid them out for him upon his old bed.

When Harry pulled on his jeans, he felt something in the pocket. He put his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a galleon. It wasn't a real galleon. It was the fake galleon Hermione had made for all the members of Dumbledore's Army. He sat on his bed and stared at it.

Harry still wanted to be an Auror, but he had to admit, he had really enjoyed teaching Dumbledore's Army. It felt somehow right to teach. He thought, perhaps someday, after he was tired of hunting Dark Wizards, perhaps he would teach.

Harry put the coin in the pouch that hung from his neck, finished dressing, and then headed for the Great Hall. Along the way, he saw just how beaten up the castle was, and wondered if it would ever be the same again. He stepped over debris, and around bloodstains. There was so much blood. He wondered if they could ever get all the stains off the floor and walls. He wondered whose blood each stain was as he walked by them, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind.

Along the way, he bumped into Dean and Seamus, as well as Professors Slughorn and Flitwick, and thanked them all for all they had done. As he headed down the hallway towards the Great Hall, he saw Luna walking down the corridor towards him. Harry was shocked to see her dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. He was sure he had never seen Luna cry before.

"Luna, are you all right?" asked Harry as he approached her. She looked up with a start, she hadn't seen him coming.

"Oh, Harry…yes, I'm fine," said Luna, as she mustered a smile. Her voice was not quite as dreamy as it usually was. "I just got an owl from my father. He told me…how you let the Death Eaters see you before you escaped. I don't know what I would do if I lost him…too. He's all I have left. You took a terrible risk to protect him. Thank you."

Harry knew they had left out some of the details when they told Luna about their visit and narrow escape from her home. They told her they were seen, but they didn't tell her how they went out of their way to be seen.

Harry smiled. "That's what friends do for each other," replied Harry. He could see recognition in her eyes.

"You saw it then…my room, I mean," said Luna. Harry was pretty sure he had never seen Luna look nervous before.

"Yes," said Harry with a smile. "Your father isn't all you have left."

Harry hugged her, and then she headed off down the hall. He noticed she was dabbing at her eyes again.

When Harry got to the Great Hall, he stood before the doors. How many times had he walked through those doors to have a meal with his friends? How many times had he sat at the Gryffindor table and laughed with them? He couldn't think of one time, all he could see was the image of the snakelike eyes of Voldemort. All he could feel was the terror that went through him when he saw Ginny, Hermione, and Luna dueling Bellatrix Lestrange. He felt that when he opened the doors it would be happening again. Harry shook his head, and pushed the images from his mind. He took a deep breath and pushed open the doors.

Harry walked over to where Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were sitting, and he sat next to Ginny, across from Ron and Hermione. As soon as he was seated, he felt better with Ginny at his side. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, which made her smile.

Lunch was wonderful. Harry didn't think he had ever eaten so much in his life, he felt like he hadn't eaten in days, which wasn't far from the truth.

They ate and talked and laughed. It was such a nice change from the stress of the past year, of most of his life really. Harry felt like he had come home, and it felt wonderful to do something as normal as eat lunch with his friends.

There were others in the Great Hall: Order members, professors, students and their families who had fought in the battle, Aurors, Ministry officials, many of whom nodded to him when they saw him, or waved, but everyone seemed to realize he needed some space, and they didn't want to intrude. Harry was very grateful for that.

"Have you given any thought to next year?" asked Hermione before she took a sip of pumpkin juice.

Harry hadn't even thought about it. He had been so focused on what he had to do. He couldn't look at anything beyond it. "No, I haven't," said Harry. He was pretty sure he knew what was coming.

"Well, we should see if we can do our seventh year and take our N.E.W.T.s," remarked Hermione.

"Are you serious?" blurted Ron, a look of disbelief on his face. "Harry just saved the world, and you're thinking about tests."

Harry suppressed a grin. They would never change.

"Yes I am," replied Hermione, a touch of annoyance in her voice. "Whatever you decide to do with the rest of your lives, you may regret it if you don't take your N.E.W.T.s. I am planning to ask Professor McGonagall if we can come back next year."

The rest of our lives, Harry thought. He liked the sound of that. Five simple words, but they meant so much to him.

"You know," began Ginny, "I still have another year." Harry saw the thoughtful look on her face that seemed to say, 'what ever shall we do?'

Harry grinned from ear to ear. He wouldn't just be coming back for his last year at Hogwarts. He would be coming back with Ginny for a glorious year as just a student who could go to class and spend time with his friends. He could spend time with Ginny. How perfectly normal and boring it would all be. Harry couldn't wait.

Hermione knew what he was thinking before he could open his mouth. "I guess I can count you in, Harry," Hermione said with a smirk. "I'm certainly coming back if I can." Harry knew exactly where this was going. Hermione turned to Ron. "What about you?"

"Well, I don't know," said Ron with a frown. The look on his face showed how torn he was. "I'll have to think about it."

"All right, well, if you don't, then I'll write to you. Maybe we can see each other at Christmas," said Hermione without a hint of annoyance or anger. Her tone was almost too even and calm. Harry was pretty sure she was seething inside.

"Hermione, it's not that I don't want to come back with you, I was just thinking." He paused. "I was thinking I might help George with the store," whimpered Ron, looking down at the table. Harry saw Ginny out of the corner of his eye. She looked like she was going to cry. He put his arm around her and hugged her close, but he didn't say anything. At that moment, Harry didn't trust his voice.

Hermione gasped and put her hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Ron," she said breathlessly. She seemed to be searching for what to say, her mouth open, but no words came out, a look of horror on her face, and unshed tears in her eyes.

"It's all right," said Ron mustering a reassuring smile. "I really do want to come back with you, Hermione, but I doubt I would be allowed to leave school to go work at the store." Ron put his arm around Hermione and kissed her on the cheek.

"I was planning on seeing Professor McGonagall today anyway, let me talk to her, I'll see if we can work something out," said Harry, his voice returning to him.

"So what are your plans now?" asked Harry after they had talked a while longer. He hadn't even thought of the fact he had no home anymore. He was never returning to Privet Drive, and he had half expected he would never need a home. He couldn't bring himself to stay at Grimmauld Place.

"The school will be closed for two weeks," Ginny informed them. "They will repair the castle then, and then we will finish out the term. In the meantime, Mum said we should all come back to The Burrow. The funeral for Fred, Tonks, and Remus will be tomorrow." Ginny's voice was soft, as she tried not to betray the pain of those words. Ron and Hermione nodded.

"It's so horrible," said Hermione, as she shook her head sadly. "Poor little Teddy left without parents…Fred gone…and poor Colin…" Hermione closed her eyes, unable to speak, as Ron put his arms around her and tears leaked out from under her eyelids. "It's so horrible."

The funerals. Harry was enjoying being with his friends so much, he hadn't even thought about the funerals. He didn't want to think about them.

"Tell you what," said Harry. "Why don't the three of you head to The Burrow, and I'll be there tonight. I want to see Professor McGonagall, and I have a few other things I need to do," sighed Harry.

"I can keep you company if you want," said Ginny, a look of concern in her eyes.

"If it's all right, I have a few things I'd really like to take care of alone," replied Harry. He would not have minded having Ginny with him for most of what he had to do. In fact, the thought of not being near her, even for a little while, bothered him. It would only be for a few hours, yet it felt like it would be an eternity. There was one thing he knew he did have to do alone.

"Sure," said Ginny, looking a little disappointed. Harry leaned over and kissed her deeply, not caring that Ron was right across the table.

"More heartfelt declarations to make?" asked Ron with a grin.

Hermione hit him in the shoulder, and glared daggers at him.

"Ease up, Hermione," said Ron in surprise. "He knows I'm only joking."

Harry smiled. Some things will never change, he thought. "Not exactly, Ron. No heart felt declarations. At least…" Harry swallowed hard, "…not until tonight," said Harry letting out a slow breath. He wasn't looking forward to tonight.

Harry was about to get up, when an owl swooped down and landed in front of him, holding out its leg. Harry untied the letter, and the owl flew off. Harry couldn't help but think of Hedwig.

"Who's it from?" asked Ron, as Harry opened the letter.

Harry read the letter. "It's from," Harry paused, "Tonks' mother. I sent her an owl yesterday. She says your Mum invited her and Teddy to stay at The Burrow for a while. She said she would be there after the funeral." Harry sighed, he wanted to see Teddy, but he couldn't deny every time he thought of him, not even a year old, and both his parents gone, he felt a surge of guilt, like a storm front bearing down on him, and sadness so strong, he thought it would drown him.

Harry got up from the table. "I'll see you all tonight," smiled Harry. He gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek, and headed out of the Great Hall.

As he walked away, nearly out of earshot, he heard Ginny say, "Hermione…Harry told me he loved me." The joy in Ginny's voice was unmistakable, and brought a smile to Harry's face. If that was all it took to make her so happy, he would be sure to tell her he loved her as often as possible.

Harry got to the door of the Headmistress's Office and stopped. He stared at the griffin shaped knocker. The thoughts of all the times he had been in this office over the years flooded through his mind. All the talks he had with Professor Dumbledore, even the unpleasant ones, like the night that Sirius died. All the things he had learned in this room, about his parents, about Voldemort, about himself.

All the time he had spent with Dumbledore flashed through his mind. He would have liked more time with Dumbledore, much more. He could almost picture himself knocking on the door, hearing Dumbledore's voice telling him to come in, and pushing open the door to see him sitting behind his desk smiling, his half moon spectacles slightly askew on his crooked nose, with his bright blue eyes behind the lenses.

Harry shook off the thought. He knocked on the door, and heard Professor McGonagall respond. "Come in," came her voice from the other side of the door.

Harry entered the office, closing the door behind him. "Potter," she said when she saw him. "What can I do for you?" inquired Professor McGonagall, motioning him to the familiar seat in front of the desk. Professor Dumbledore was sleeping in his portrait.

Harry started to open his mouth, but he stopped. He couldn't help but think how odd it was for anyone other than Dumbledore to be sitting behind that desk.

"Is everything all right, Harry?" asked Professor McGonagall concernedly.

"Yes," said Harry shaking himself out of his fog. "I'm just not used to seeing anyone other than Professor Dumbledore sitting behind that desk."

McGonagall smiled at him. It was a sad smile. He could see the sympathy in her eyes. "I know what you mean, Harry. This is not the view of this office I'm used to either," said Professor McGonagall with a sigh. "I miss him too."

Harry looked down at the floor. It was hard enough to think about Professor Dumbledore, but to talk about him was even worse.

"If Albus were here, he would be very proud of you," Professor McGonagall informed him, glancing over her shoulder at the portrait of the late Headmaster. Dumbledore was still asleep in his portrait. She looked back to Harry. "I talk with the portrait, but it just isn't quite the same." She paused. "I…I miss my friend."

Harry was a little taken aback by her candor. She seemed so stern and maybe a little cold most of the time. He knew she cared. There were times he had seen it in her eyes. It was just the facade she had built up to deal with students over the years that made her seem unapproachable.

"I know what you mean," said Harry. He knew when he was talking to the portrait that its replies were genuinely what Albus Dumbledore would say if he were here, but she was right. It just wasn't quite the same.

"I don't know if you know this, but I was there, on Privet Drive that night," said Professor McGonagall. "I met Albus there, and waited for Hagrid to arrive with you."

"I didn't know that," said Harry. He never really knew the details of that night beyond the obvious that he was left on the Dursleys' doorstep.

"Albus was right. It was the safest place for you. I know he hated to do it," sighed Professor McGonagall. "Even then, he cared for you very much."

Harry thought it best that he get to business, he didn't really like being in this office now that Dumbledore was gone, and although he knew Professor McGonagall was trying to comfort him, every word only seemed to fuel the despair raging inside him.

It's going to be a difficult day, Harry thought. No. It was going to be a difficult life. It had been a year since Dumbledore's death, but losing Dumbledore was still as painful as the day he fell from the Astronomy Tower. Would it ever get any easier? Harry didn't think so.

"I came for a few different reasons," began Harry, changing the subject. "First, I noticed when I came up here yesterday that there is no portrait of Snape."

"I believe that is because he abandoned his post," said Professor McGonagall. Harry was about to say something, but Professor McGonagall put up her hand. "However, in light of what you have told us, I will see what we can do to rectify that. He was acting on Professor Dumbledore's orders after all."

"Thank you," said Harry with a nod. He took a deep breath. "Have arrangements been made for Snape's funeral?"

"The Order will be burying him tomorrow morning," said Professor McGonagall. "They are not having a service, and have suggested everyone stay away. He is still widely believed to be a murderer and a Death Eater, and with all that's going on, it will only raise more questions if a lot of people attend his funeral. Kingsley is trying to handle everything without causing any public outcry. Also…I found a note in Professor Snape's desk which says he wanted nothing fancy should anything happen to him." She paused. "I think he knew he wouldn't survive. In hindsight, I think he always knew he would meet his end sooner rather than later."

Harry nodded. He was sure Snape would not have asked for anything. "If that was his wish, then it should be honored," said Harry.

"Oh, that reminds me," piped Professor McGonagall. She reached into the drawer of her desk and took out a sheet of parchment and a torn photograph. "I found these in Professor Snape's desk as well. I thought you would like to have them."

Harry reached out and took the parchment and torn photograph. It was the second page of his mother's letter and the second half of the photograph Snape had found and torn in Sirius' bedroom. He slipped the torn photograph into the pouch hanging around his neck. He would repair it later. He looked at the words on the paper, 'Lots of love, Lily.' Part of him wanted to keep it; after all, he had nothing else baring his mother's signature.

"Could you have this placed in Snape's casket?" asked Harry. Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows, but nodded. He handed her the sheet of parchment.

"I heard the school will be repaired in two weeks, is that correct?" asked Harry, getting on to his next piece of business.

"Yes, we need to get end of year exams, O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s completed for this year," replied Professor McGonagall. The look on her face told Harry she knew where he was going with this question.

"Would it be possible for Ron, Hermione, and I to come back for our seventh year next year?" asked Harry.

"Normally, it would not. However, as many students did not return this year, as they went into hiding, if students wish to push back their graduation a year, they can return and pick up where they left off. I take it you plan to return then?"

"Hermione and I do. I don't know what Hermione would do if she couldn't take her N.E.W.T.s," said Harry with a grin, and saw the faintest smile appear on Professor McGonagall's face. Harry wasn't sure how to approach Ron's predicament.

"And what about Mr. Weasley?" inquired Professor McGonagall.

"He wants to return, however, he wants to help George with the store," said Harry. He could see the change of her expression.

"Of course," said Professor McGonagall softly. "Under the circumstances, I'm sure we can arrange a fireplace that will allow him to Floo to the shop. He'll have to juggle the schedule with his classes, but I trust he can do that, and not abuse his Floo privileges."

"I'm sure that will not be a problem," said Harry. Harry took a deep breath. He had been putting this off as long as possible.

"Something else?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," replied Harry. "I've been told that no one has gone near Professor Dumbledore's tomb since Voldemort broke it open to steal Professor Dumbledore's wand."

She looked slightly ill all of a sudden. "To my eternal shame, no," said Professor McGonagall.

Harry looked at her quizzically.

"Professor Snape forbade anyone from going anywhere near the tomb or the body," said Professor McGonagall. "I did cast a spell to protect him from the weather," she sighed, "but I left him there. I suppose now, knowing what was going on, that Professor Snape's order had something to do with Albus' wand."

Harry put his hand on his robe, where he could feel his own wand as well as the Elder Wand in the pocket. "I assume so," said Harry.

"Still, I feel I should have done something more," said Professor McGonagall. "Just leaving him lying there…"

"I will take care of him. I need to put his wand back where it belongs," said Harry. Harry knew Professor Dumbledore wouldn't want her feeling bad, so he wanted to change the subject.

Professor McGonagall nodded.

Harry stood up, as did Professor McGonagall, but didn't move.

"Something else?" asked Professor McGonagall, raising an eyebrow.

"I just wanted to thank you," grinned Harry. "I could not have been the easiest student to have. I broke a rule here and there. A few rules probably." Harry tried to suppress a smile, but didn't quite manage it.

"I seem to recall more than a few," said Professor McGonagall with a smile. "I guess I figured under the circumstances, you deserved a little leeway." She paused. "But if you tell anyone I said that, I will deny it."

Harry smiled. She wasn't quite as stern as she made everyone believe she was. Harry walked around her desk without a word, and hugged her. For a moment, she seemed surprised, but she returned the embrace warmly.

"You know you can always come to me if you need anything, Harry," said Professor McGonagall with a smile. "If you need to talk about anything, I'm always here."

Harry smiled. "I know," said Harry. "That's what friends are for."

Harry took a slow walk around the castle, running into a lot of people he knew along the way, stopping to thank them for everything they had done. As hard as he tried not to, he felt more depressed with each passing minute. He couldn't help but think of the dead, as he walked around the castle, which was the battlefield on which they died. He walked down to the green houses. He was hoping to run into Neville, and sure enough, Neville was alone in one of the greenhouses, cleaning up the mess that the battle had caused.

"Hi, Neville," said Harry as he walked into the green house.

"Harry!" exclaimed Neville as he popped up from behind a bench he was bending over. In the process, he knocked a pot off the edge of the bench, and it crashed to the floor, smashing into pieces.

"Sorry," groaned Harry. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Don't worry about it. Everything else in here is broken anyway," sighed Neville. "It could be worse, I suppose."

Harry and Neville had both lost their parents when they were babies, albeit in different ways. Harry felt that connection to Neville. He had ever since he found out what happened to Neville's parents.

"Neville, I wanted to thank you for everything you did this past year. It means a lot to me that you would go through that. You've been a good friend," said Harry.

"I didn't do anything," said Neville shaking his head. "You would have done the same for me. Besides, what you did was a lot more important than anything I did."

Harry smiled. "That's funny," began Harry, "I wasn't the one who charged Voldemort, then said…what was it you said to him?"

Neville blushed slightly. "I'll join you when hell freezes over," Neville reminded him with a slight grin. "Or something like that."

Harry smiled. "Neville, I want you to make me a promise," said Harry.

"Anything for you, Harry," said Neville without hesitation. "You know that."

"I want you to tell your parents about everything you did this year. Tell them how you led the student rebellion against the Carrows. Tell them how you confronted Voldemort and killed Nagini," said Harry. "Tell them all of it."

Neville looked dumbstruck. "Harry," he said slowly, a pained look on his face. "They don't understand anything I say to them."

"They may not understand the words, Neville, but I think they will understand that their son is a hero, and they will be proud of you. Even if they can't say it," noted Harry.

"I'm no hero, Harry, not like you," said Neville looking towards the ground.

Harry chuckled, and thought for a moment about what Neville had said. Harry certainly didn't consider himself a hero, but he knew a lot of people did.

"I'm no hero. I just did what I had to do. I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice. It wasn't up to me. You had a choice, Neville. You could have done what you were told and stayed clear of the Carrows. You could have stayed back, and not gone near Voldemort. You are a hero, and showed the bravery of a true Gryffindor. Only a true Gryffindor can pull the sword from the Sorting Hat," said Harry. When he said those last words about the sword, it was the voice of Albus Dumbledore echoing them in his mind. It seemed so long ago that Dumbledore had said the same thing to him.

"Harry, can you honestly say that if you had a choice, you would not have gotten involved?" asked Neville. "And I would remind you, I'm not the only one standing here who has pulled the sword from the Sorting Hat."

"How do you know that?" asked Harry. He didn't think he had told anyone but Ron and Hermione the specifics of what happened in the Chamber of Secrets. He knew it had gotten around years ago that he had killed the basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor. Then, before Neville even replied, Harry knew the answer. There was one other person he had told. How could he have forgotten?

"Ginny told me," smiled Neville, "on the night of the Yule Ball. You were all she could talk about when we weren't dancing. But I'm not letting you change the subject. You would have gotten involved, even if you didn't have to, and you know it. It's who you are."

Harry paused. He wasn't sure what to say. Would he have gotten involved? If Voldemort had nothing to do with him or his parents, and he had found out about the Sorcerer's Stone all those years ago, would he have tried to stop him? "I guess I'll never know," said Harry.

Neville smiled. "I know you would have, Harry."

"Thanks," said Harry, deciding to change the subject. "What are you going to do next year?"

At this question, Neville smiled broadly. "Professor Sprout has offered me an assistant position, I'll be assisting her with classes next year," said Neville cheerfully. "As long as I get an O on my Herbology N.E.W.T."

"Please tell me I won't have to call you Professor," drawled Harry jokingly.

"Are you coming back next year?!" exclaimed Neville, an excited tone to his voice.

"Yes, Ron, Hermione, and I will all be back," said Harry.

"That's great," said Neville. "It'll be like old times."

Harry grinned. Considering what old times had been like, he would prefer things be a little different. "Can we have old times without the dragons, snakes, and three headed dogs?" asked Harry.

Neville laughed. After a moment, Neville's expression changed. Harry couldn't quite read what it was. "Harry, can I ask you something?" asked Neville, timidly.

"Anything," Harry replied.

"Does it make you feel better?" asked Neville.

"Does what make me feel better?" asked Harry. He wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"Knowing Voldemort is dead. He killed your parents," said Neville softly. "Do you feel better now that he is dead? I thought I would feel better when Bellatrix Lestrange was dead." Neville paused. "I don't feel any better at all."

Harry thought a moment. The same thoughts that went through his mind the previous afternoon came back. He wondered for a moment, why didn't it make him feel better that Voldemort was dead, but Harry already knew the answer. He could see it on Neville's face. Why he hadn't realized it already, he wasn't sure.

"Their deaths don't bring back the people we love," whispered Harry, a tear escaping his eye.

Neville walked over to Harry and put a hand on his shoulder. "I guess you're right, it doesn't bring them back," said Neville. They hugged each other.

Harry walked to the door, and looked back to Neville before he left and said, "See you next year, Professor Longbottom."

Neville grinned. "Hurry along, or you'll be late for class," said Neville with a laugh. "And Harry…I will tell them."

Harry headed toward the forbidden forest, towards the small cabin that he had visited so many times during his years at Hogwarts. The unmistakable evidence of the battle was everywhere, and it was doing nothing for the depression that was settling over him. He stopped for a moment, and turned to look at the castle. He knew the damage would be repaired. Nothing would ever destroy Hogwarts. That was a comforting thought.

As he gazed up at the castle, he could see the hole in the wall on the seventh floor where Fred had died. Fred didn't deserve that, but then neither did any of the others who had lost their lives fighting for his cause.

The hole looked almost insignificant compared to the rest of the damage to Hogwarts. It was seemed so small, dwarfed by the castle itself. Yet, for something that seemed small, in the moment it was formed, it had created a much larger whole in the lives of so many people. Harry knew nothing could fill that hole.

When Harry reached the edge of the forest, he found Hagrid sitting outside his house, just enjoying the afternoon. He was drinking from a bucket sized mug, which Harry was sure contained Firewhiskey. Harry couldn't blame him for trying to dull the pain.

"Harry," shouted Hagrid when he saw him coming towards him. Hagrid was grinning from ear to ear. "It's good to see you. I bet you're glad to get away from the crowds for a while."

"Hi, Hagrid," replied Harry cheerfully, trying not to betray everything swirling around in his heart and mind. "Yeah, it's nice not to be handed around like a rag doll."

"Would you like to come in for a spot of tea?" asked Hagrid, glancing into his mug. "Perhaps something a little stronger than tea. I just baked some rock cakes."

"I really can't, Hagrid," said Harry. As much as he would have loved to spend some time with Hagrid, he didn't have time, or the extra teeth to lose to the rock cakes. "I'm supposed to go to The Burrow, and I have one more stop to make before I leave. I just…I just wanted to apologize to you."

"What for?" queried Hagrid, a confused look on his face. "What do you have to apologize for?"

Harry took a breath. "I can't imagine what it felt like for you to watch what happened in the forest." Hagrid's face darkened and he stared at the ground. Hagrid watched Harry die in the forest then had to carry him back to the castle, not knowing Harry was only playing dead. Harry felt like it might have been the cruelest thing he had ever done to anyone.

Hagrid shook his head slowly, looking up at Harry. "You have nothing to apologize for, Harry," said Hagrid. "I would be lying if I didn't say it was the most horrible thing I've ever seen in my life." Hagrid paused. "It was even worse…than the night Professor Dumbledore died. Harry, it wasn't your fault. You did what you had to do." Hagrid paused for a moment. "And you're not dead, you're still here, that's all that matters to me."

Harry still felt terrible about what he put him through, but he knew Hagrid meant what he said. All that mattered to Hagrid was that Harry was alive.

"Well, I've got to get going. I'm coming back next year, so I'll see you in September," said Harry.

"That's great, Harry," smiled Hagrid. "I'll look forward to it."

Harry hugged Hagrid, at least as much as he could since he still couldn't get his arms around him. "Thanks for everything Hagrid, I couldn't have done it without you," said Harry.

Hagrid looked like he was about to cry, but he cleared his throat and said, "You better get going, it's getting late."

Harry smiled. "Say hello to Grawp and Buckbeak for me," said Harry. He turned and headed for his last stop; for the stop he had been putting off all afternoon.

Harry made his way down to the lake. As he walked, he was simultaneously trying to decide what exactly he had come for, whilst also trying not to think about it. At that moment, thinking about going to The Burrow, as hard as that would be seemed an easier thought.

Harry looked on the place where the tomb of Albus Dumbledore lay, broken open as if a giant fist had landed a blow upon it, shattering it into pieces. The sight was awful: Dumbledore's body, still mostly wrapped in purple velvet with bright gold stars, lay beside the tomb. Harry could see the sun glinting off the half moon spectacles, which just peeked out from beneath the purple velvet. Harry was thankful it prevented him from seeing Dumbledore's face. Harry had tried to remember Dumbledore as he had lived, but it seemed the sight of his broken body in the grass at the foot of the Astronomy Tower was the one that came to him most often.

The sun was setting, and the broken marble reflected the sun harshly into Harry's eyes. Perhaps it was trying to prevent him from seeing the terrible site before him. The lake seemed to glow orange, red, and yellow. It was hard to see how beautiful the sunset was through the sight before him.

Harry just stared at the scene for a few moments, his eyes half closed against the sun. He pulled out his wand, as well as the Elder Wand from the pocket of his robes. He took one last look at the Elder Wand. He thought of all the trouble it had caused. The Wand of Destiny, the Death Stick, the Elder Wand, whatever it was called, Harry couldn't fathom how many had died at the hands of those who wielded it.

Using his own wand, he levitated the Elder Wand back to where it belonged, between the folded hands of the man who should have been its last true master. Harry replaced the wrappings as they had been the day of the funeral, and levitated the body of his mentor back into the tomb. He quickly repaired the tomb with a flick of his wand. The gleaming marble, now restored, shined even more brightly in the sunset than the lake beyond it, as if to make sure that all who saw it knew that a great man lay entombed beneath.

Harry stood there for a minute, contemplating all that had happened. Then he walked up, just a few feet away from the glistening marble, and spoke aloud. "It's done sir. The Elder Wand is back where it belongs," said Harry. He paused, as he blinked back tears. It was as if speaking had broken what little hold he had on his emotions.

"With any luck, I'll die an old man and the power of the Elder Wand will be destroyed," said Harry. "That was your plan…I'll try to carry it out."

There was so much Harry wanted to say, and even though Dumbledore was gone, it felt right he do it here and now. He could have said it to the portrait in the office, but the portrait wasn't really Albus Dumbledore.

"I've thought a lot today about the talk we had at King's Cross," said Harry softly. "Truth be told, today I've probably thought of every conversation we've ever had. You were right, professor. You weren't perfect. I'm certainly not perfect. I don't think anyone is. We all make mistakes, and can only hope we have the chance to rectify them. Some mistakes can't be rectified."

Harry thought of Ariana and of Sirius. Harry still blamed himself for Sirius' death, though he still had a familiar pang in his chest when he thought about all that Dumbledore hadn't told him. Harry had forgiven him, but that familiar twinge was still there.

"We paid a terrible cost for our mistakes, perhaps the highest cost anyone can pay," said Harry slowly. "I think maybe it's how you live with those mistakes that matters most. You once said to me that it was important to fight and fight again and keep fighting. I plan to become an Auror and do just that." Harry grinned as he blinked back his unshed tears. "If they will have me, of course."

"I am proud to have known you sir," Harry continued. "I just wish I had gotten to know you better, but maybe someday, when it's my turn to…embark on the next great adventure, I'll have the chance to ask you all the questions I never did."

Harry took a deep breath. "I'll never forget all you did for me, and all you taught me," he said. "Not just about magic, but about life. You weren't just the Headmaster of my school. You were my mentor…and you were my friend." Harry paused, as a tear he could no longer hold back trickled down his cheek. "I'll always be 'Dumbledore's Man', and proud of it."

"I want to apologize for not taking your word that Snape…sorry…Professor Snape…was on our side," Harry added. "I should have had more faith in you. I am not going to pretend the complete and total loathing he showed me over the years didn't give me good reason not to trust him, and I didn't do anything to deserve it," he paused, "at least not at first. Still, I know my father was…cruel to him, and that he took my mother away from him. I guess while I didn't deserve to be treated that way by Professor Snape, I can understand how he felt. It couldn't have been easy to look at me and see the man he hated, and the women he loved in my eyes."

Harry reached into the pocket of his jeans and removed the fake galleon that was carried by all the members of Dumbledore's Army. "You know…after Umbridge left, we should have given you one of these," said Harry, as he tried to dry his now tear streaked face with the back of his hand. Harry walked right up to the tomb and placed the shiny gold galleon upon the tomb. Harry placed his hand flat on top of the tomb beside the galleon.

"I'm coming back in September to do my seventh year," said Harry. He smiled. "Somehow I think you would be very happy with that. Professor McGonagall said…you would be very proud of me if you were here. When we talked, after Voldemort tried to kill me, I know you said you were proud of me. I'll keep trying to make you proud of me, Professor." Harry smiled, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I'll try not to disappoint you."

With that Harry turned and headed for the castle gates so he could Apperate to The Burrow. When he was about twenty feet away from the tomb, something happened. Harry would not forget it for the rest of his life, and for a long time he was not sure if he had imagined it or not. He could swear he heard the voice of Albus Dumbledore say, "You never could, Harry."

As Harry turned around, for a split second, he thought he saw him standing there in front of the tomb smiling at him, his half moon spectacles slightly askew upon his crooked nose, his blue eyes glistening behind them in the sunset. It was only an instant, and then he was gone, if he was even there at all. Even though Dumbledore was not there, Harry wasn't alone. Perched on top of the glistening marble tomb was a familiar bird with bright scarlet and gold feathers, the galleon held securely in its beak.

"Fawkes," said Harry in surprise. Dumbledore's loyal phoenix had not been seen since the night Dumbledore fell from the Astronomy Tower. Before Harry had even finished the thought, Fawkes rose into the air and flew gracefully over the lake and over the forest on the opposite bank. Harry watched him fly away, until he became just a golden speck in the bright blue sky.


	2. Part II

**Chapter 37, Picking up the Pieces**

**By**

**Lewis M. Brooks, III**

**Chapter 37 – Picking up the Pieces, Part II**

Harry Apperated just outside The Burrow, and slowly made his way towards the house. Each step seemed to be more and more difficult, as if invisible hands were reaching out of the ground and pulling him down, threatening to crush him. He had to finish what he had started that day with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. This would be so much harder. The heartbreaking sound of Mrs. Weasley's sobs over Fred's lifeless body still echoed in his ears.

Harry walked up to the door of the house. His mind was racing at what he had to do. He knocked on the door and it opened. Mrs. Weasley pulled him into a hug.

"How are you, Harry dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley. Harry could tell she had been crying, but that wasn't unexpected. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, actually," said Harry, giving her as much of a smile as he could muster. He was hungry, but at that moment, he didn't think that was why his stomach was tied up in knots. He looked around. They were all in the living room, sitting quietly in front of the fire. Ginny was sitting on the floor. Charlie was seated next to her. Mr. Weasley was seated in his favorite chair. Bill sat with his arm around Fleur, his wife pulled close beside him. Ron and Hermione were also on the couch, Ron holding Hermione's hand. Percy and George each sat on chairs. All looked solemn and contemplative. Mrs. Weasley had just gone to the kitchen. All of them had a butterbeer, or a glass of Firewhiskey in their hands, except Ginny, who got up from where she sat and came over and slid her arms around Harry's neck.

Harry hugged her back tightly. "Are you all right?" Harry whispered in her ear.

"I am now," replied Ginny softly as they held each other.

It was obvious to Harry that Ginny had been crying, and he held her for a moment, wishing more than anything he could take her pain away. For all the pain he had within him, he would have taken all of theirs too, if he could have.

Mrs. Weasley came back from the kitchen. Harry decided it was now or never. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Could I…speak to all of you for a moment?" said Harry, his voice shaking just a little bit. Every eye in the room turned to him. He looked toward Hermione who nodded to him encouragingly. He felt Ginny slip her hand into his, as she stood close beside him, her head leaning against his shoulder. She squeezed his hand encouragingly. Having her close helped so much.

"Recent events have made me think a lot about things, and I just want to say thank you to all of you," said Harry. He felt each word was more pathetic than the last. This was even harder than he thought it would be. "I never had a family growing up, at least not one that cared about me. You've made me feel welcome and like a part of your family. I'm not sure I've ever told you what that has meant to me." He paused. "I have been told," Harry looked down at Ginny for a moment as he said it, "that I am not to blame myself for those we've lost and for the injuries we've suffered." He stopped and took a breath, and he felt Ginny squeeze his hand again. "I just want to say, I know what my coming into your lives has cost you, and I'm so very…sorry." He stopped. He had a lump in his throat so large he thought he would stop breathing.

Mrs. Weasley came over to him and hugged him tightly. Tears were falling from her eyes again. When she let him go, she took his face in her hands, and looked him in the eyes and said, "For a while yesterday, I thought that I had lost another son." She paused, and smiled a little. "I've never once regretted making you part of my family, Harry."

The lump in Harry's throat doubled in size, and he could no longer hold back the tears. The sincerity in her voice was unmistakable.

"Here, here," agreed Bill, raising his glass of Firewhiskey in the air. The others lifted their glasses and bottles as well.

It was almost more than Harry could take. All he could get out was "thank you," and Ginny hugged him again, as he cried softly into her hair.

After eating dinner, and realizing just how much he had missed Mrs. Weasley's cooking over the last year, Harry decided he would go to bed. The Weasleys and Hermione were still sitting by the fire, and he really wanted to be alone for a little while. He went upstairs and changed into his pajamas. As Harry sat on his bed in the room he shared with Ron, he thought about the day.

The battle within Harry continued to rage, fueled by the thought that there had been one person missing from the dinner table, an empty chair whose silence was the most deafening sound he had ever heard in his entire life. Harry felt like the guilt might suffocate him.

There was a knock at the door. It must be Ginny, he thought.

"Come in," said Harry softly. When the door opened, it wasn't Ginny's long ginger hair he saw, but Hermione's unmistakable brown curls. "Hey," he said weakly.

Hermione came over and sat down on the bed next to him. "How are you?" she asked, kindly.

Harry looked down at the floor. How was he? That was a good question. "I'm fine," Harry answered, wishing he could have sounded more convincing.

"You know I can read you like a book right?" asked Hermione. "Not that it would take a Legilimens to see that you're hurting." Hermione put her arm around his shoulders. "Tell me what's wrong, Harry. You can tell me."

Hermione was right. She could read him like a book. She was his best friend, and his sister in every way that mattered. She knew him so well.

"I don't know," Harry lied.

"You do and you know it," Hermione pleaded gently.

Harry stared at the floor for another minute, and then it all just came spilling out, as if a dam had burst. He no longer had the will to hold it back.

"I feel so guilty for everything," said Harry slowly. "What if I had done things differently? What if I had listened to you and not gone after Sirius? I told Cedric to take the cup with me, if I hadn't, he would still be alive. How many might still be alive if not for my mistakes? Maybe if we hadn't gone to Gringotts and had gone to Hogwarts instead, we could have prevented the final battle from happening like that. Maybe Fred, Remus, and Tonks would still be alive." Harry just blurted it all out, a tear escaping his eye. "They are all dead because of me. How could I have done that to them?"

The thought of his arrival at The Burrow played across his mind. How could they feel the way they did. He had taken away a part of them. A son. A brother. Harry had no idea how he could live with that?

Hermione sat there a moment. "You know what it's called, what you are feeling now? It's called survivor's guilt. It's a Muggle term. People that survive situations when other people don't, feel guilty that they survived."

"But I was the reason they died, not part of something bigger that I had no control over, and happened to come out of. I was raised a Muggle too, I've heard the term before, Hermione." Harry just stared at the floor. "I feel like the guilt will suffocate me. And I know my guilt hurts Ginny, and that makes me feel guiltier. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't survived. Maybe it would have been better if I had never been born."

Harry heard a floorboard creak, and looked up to see Ginny standing in the doorway, her expression blank, but her eyes were filled with pain. Neither of them had noticed that Ginny was there. Harry took a breath. He was a little afraid he was going to be yelled at again.

"How long have you been standing there?" asked Harry, looking up at her, and then quickly away, he couldn't bare the look of pain in her eyes. Her eyes were still red from crying for her brother.

"Long enough," said Ginny softly, not a trace of anger in her voice. Ginny walked over to the bed and sat on Harry's other side, putting her arm around his back, and leaning against him. "I'm sorry," whispered Ginny.

"What are you sorry for?" mumbled Harry. What could she possibly have to be sorry about? It wasn't Ginny who got Fred killed.

Before she could respond, Hermione stood up. "I'll leave you two alone." She kissed Harry's forehead and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You will be all right Harry. We're all…everyone's here for you," said Hermione, and walked toward the door. She smiled back at him with a look that said there was something more she wanted to say, but she said nothing more before closing the door behind her.

"I shouldn't have got upset at you this morning when you said Fred's death was your fault. I just didn't realize how guilty you felt, I didn't know how bad it was," whispered Ginny softly. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry wasn't going to tell her it was killing him that she was saying she was sorry, but it was. He didn't deserve her. She deserved someone who was strong and not a magnet for death, destruction, and despair. He didn't deserve anyone as wonderful as Ginny after all the terrible things he had caused.

"I know not one of them, not Sirius, not Remus, not Dobby, not Fred, or anyone else would blame you for what happened to them," said Ginny, as she rubbed his back soothingly. "No one else, not me, Mum, Dad, or my brothers, do either."

"Maybe that's the problem," said Harry softly. "I know they don't. I would rather you and your family all hated me for Fred's death. It would be easier if the dead all hated me for causing their deaths, for putting them in danger. I wish they were here to tell me what an awful, horrible person I am," said Harry, his voice cracking. He put his face in his hands. "I as good as killed them all myself the day I was born."

Ginny pulled Harry close, and pulled his head down onto her shoulder, holding onto him tightly. As he returned her embrace, his tears fell freely, and he sobbed into her shoulder, the strangled sounds of grief of the most horrible kind muffled by Ginny's sweater. Harry no longer had the strength to hold back the tears. All day he had fought the pain and guilt. No, he had been fighting it for years. He didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. He tried to cry out all the pain he had pent up for so long. So many years of holding in his feelings all came pouring out. His parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hedwig, Mad-Eye, Dobby, Snape, Remus, Tonks, Fred, he cried for them all until he didn't think he had any tears left. Ginny rubbed his back and spoke softly in his ear, telling him it would be all right, that she would help him through it. That she would always be there for him, that she just wanted him to be all right, and that she loved him with all her heart.

At one point, Harry heard the door creak, and thought Ginny must have put up a hand to wave whoever it was away. The door creaked closed again. He wasn't sure how long they sat there, but eventually, the tears stopped. Harry assumed he must have run out, since he didn't really feel any better.

Ginny looked at him. He knew his eyes were red and swollen. The exhaustion must have been written on his face. Her eyes were still red, but Harry thought she was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

Ginny gently wiped the tears away from his cheeks and kissed him softly. "Why don't you get some sleep?" asked Ginny. "Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?"

Harry nodded. He felt a little silly, like a child who was afraid of the dark and who didn't want to be left alone at night, but that was just it. He really just didn't want to be alone. He slid under the covers and pulled them up. Ginny sat on the side of the bed. He lay there looking at the ceiling. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. His mind was swimming in grief.

A few minutes later, as Harry stared at the ceiling, he felt Ginny lie down beside him. She laid her head and shoulder on his chest, draping her arm over him. Even through the sheets and their clothing, Harry could feel the steady beat of Ginny's heart, and he could smell her flowery scent. It calmed him, and he soon drifted off to sleep.

Harry woke to see the morning sun coming through the window. Ginny hadn't moved, she was still lying there, asleep with her head on his chest. She was covered with a blanket.

It was the second day in a row he had woken up with her at his side, and he realized just what a great feeling that was, for her to be there when he first opened his eyes. The night before was fresh in his mind, and his cheeks still stung from the salty tears he had shed. He did feel a little better though, like the weight pressing down on him was a little bit lighter.

He looked at her, peacefully sleeping on his chest. 'God she's beautiful,' he thought. 'What did I ever do to deserve her?' She was an angel. Her ginger hair was gently spread across his shoulder. He would have been happy to live in this moment for the rest of his life.

It was the next thought that caused Harry to start to panic. He looked at the ceiling intently as it came to him. What would Mr. and Mrs. Weasley say when they found out they had slept in the same bed? True, they were fully clothed and hadn't done anything, but still. Visions of being beaten to within an inch of his life by an angry mob of red headed men flashed through his mind. He suddenly felt bad about teasing Ron and Hermione the day before when they came down from the boys' dormitory together, though he had a sneaking suspicion that in spite of their denial, they hadn't just talked.

Harry looked back to Ginny, and realized she was awake and smiling at him. He was about to say something, when she shook her head. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Mum came in last night after you fell asleep," said Ginny softly, with a smile. "She wanted to check on you. I told her I was going to stay with you."

Harry swallowed hard. "And she was all right with that?" asked Harry, nervously.

Ginny smiled again. "All right…no. Understanding…yes. I am her only daughter after all. She is quite protective of me, not that she really needs to be. It can get a bit annoying. If it were any other boy in the world, I wouldn't be here. She loves you like a son, and she knew you were hurting last night and needed me. I don't think we can make a habit of it though," laughed Ginny.

"That's too bad," said Harry, mustering a smile. "I rather enjoy waking up next to you."

Harry pulled her towards him and kissed her deeply. She kissed him back just as deeply. After a moment, she pulled back breathlessly, a satisfied smile on her face. "My, my, Mr. Potter," said Ginny looking deep into his eyes. "Are you trying to snog me completely senseless?"

"That was the general idea," said Harry, with a mischievous grin.

"We'll have plenty of time for that," said Ginny with a smile. Then her smile saddened. "We better get dressed and get down stairs for breakfast. It's going to be a long day."

The sobering thought of the funerals they would attend today brought Harry back to reality with a crash, like falling into an icy pool of water on the coldest day of the year. He nodded. She got up, and headed to the door, giving him one more smile before she opened the door. Harry loved her smile, he loved everything thing about her, down to the very last freckle.

"I'm still going to get hell from your brothers, aren't I?" asked Harry.

"Probably," grinned Ginny, and she left closing the door behind her.

Harry showered and dressed, and headed down to breakfast, steeled for whatever he was going to face from the six Weasley brothers. He stopped dead on the stairs. There weren't six Weasley brothers, not anymore. He suddenly wished he would go into the kitchen and have Fred there, leading his brothers in beating the crap out of him for spending the night with their sister. Harry would have gladly taken every last punch.

Harry took a breath, and continued down the stairs. Mrs. Weasley was busy getting breakfast ready. The assembled Weasley brothers around the table all gave him slightly dirty looks as Ginny smirked at them.

All except Ron. Ron grinned from ear to ear. "So, did you sleep well?" asked Ron.

Hermione was grinning, but only slightly. Her eyes were red, she had obviously been crying. Harry felt bad. Perhaps when Hermione had come up to see him the previous evening, she too needed a shoulder to cry on. At least Harry was sure she had found one.

"Okay, I deserve that," said Harry. He deserved it and he knew it. But to wake up next to Ginny was worth anything he had to endure. He knew he wouldn't get the opportunity again for a long time probably. Suddenly, a smile moved across Harry's lips.

"What's so funny?" Ron demanded.

"Nothing," replied Harry. He wasn't going to tell him that he was thinking of all the places in Hogwarts he could be alone with Ginny. 'God bless my Invisibility Cloak,' Harry thought. If Harry had any doubt, as to what the most powerful of the Deathly Hallows was, he didn't anymore.

After breakfast, they got ready for the funerals. First would be Fred's funeral, and then in the afternoon, they would Apperate to where Tonks and Remus were to be buried.

The funeral for Fred was held at the graveyard, not far from The Burrow in Ottery St. Catchpole. They walked there. It was a beautiful day. Harry thought Ginny might break his hand she was holding it so tightly as they walked. After a few minutes, he offered her his other hand, and put his arm around her shoulders. She seemed to relax a little, and Harry was happy he could at least provide a small amount of comfort to her.

No one had said much of anything that morning. Harry thought Mrs. Weasley must have warned her sons about commenting on his and Ginny's sleeping arrangements the night before. He couldn't help but think about waking up next to her. One day, he would get to do that every day, he hoped.

His pleasant thoughts ended, as they arrived at the cemetery, and made their way through the iron gates, and up to the casket. As they approached, he could hear Mrs. Weasley's sobs. Every one of them seemed to echo throughout his soul, piercing his heart like a spear.

Ginny began to cry, and Harry held her tightly, trying to comfort her, but knowing nothing he could do would bring her brother back. He would have gladly traded places with Fred to alleviate the pain she was feeling.

Dumbledore's funeral was the only wizard funeral Harry had ever attended. This was much smaller than Dumbledore's, of course. The Weasleys, as well as many members of the Order of the Phoenix, were all there. Some other relatives of the Weasleys who Harry didn't know were there. The red hair made them easy to spot. Most of the professors from Hogwarts, including Hagrid, were there, as well as many of their classmates and friends. Dean, Seamus, Neville, Luna, and Lee Jordan, the twins' best friend, were all there. Fleur's family was there as well as a lot of people Harry didn't know, but he suspected they must have worked with Mr. Weasley or Percy at the Ministry.

Harry couldn't quite believe it was real. He half expected Fred to jump out from behind the casket and start cracking jokes with George. Harry would have gladly eaten a million Canary Creams if Fred were there to give them to him.

The casket was silver in color, and had flowers all around it. There were three crests adorning the top of the casket: the Weasley family crest, the Gryffindor crest, and crest of the Order of the Phoenix. It shined brightly in the morning sun.

George stood next to the casket. "Well, here we are," George began. "It would not be right for me not to say this right from the start. If Fred were here now, he would be more than a little upset with me. I haven't given out one Ton Tongue Toffee all day." Solemn laughter could be heard through the crowd of mourners. "I haven't even set off a firework, but the day's still young, and I still haven't made one ear joke," grinned George as he pointed to where his missing ear should have been. "I haven't once teased Mum today." He smiled. "I didn't think she would appreciate it, but I think she knows, that was always our way of telling her how much we love her," he said, looking right at his mother.

Harry saw Mrs. Weasley smile through her sobs out of the corner of his eye. He was holding Ginny tight, her tears flowing freely, his own threatening to fall.

"Fred would hate this too, but I'm going to have to get mushy for a minute," said George with a sigh. He paused and took a breath, steeling himself against what he was about to say. "Other than when we would go on dates, I can hardly remember more than a few minutes at any one time, when we weren't together. For that matter, we loved to double date. I feel like something is missing, not having him standing beside me. At the same time though, I can still feel him standing here right now." George paused. Harry could tell he was fighting back tears. "I'm going to have to get used to starting and finishing my own sentences from now on. It will be very different being a solo act." George paused a moment. "I also know he wouldn't want us sitting here crying. Fred died fighting for what he believed in. He died fighting for what was right. He died fighting for all of us. That's who he was. He loved his family and friends, and he fought for them. I know he has no regrets. We will all miss him, but look at it this way…you can see a little bit of Fred every time you look at me…only I'm far more handsome." He paused again, a smile creeping across his lips. "I knew my brother quite well, and I know he would want to go out with a bang. This one's for you Fred," George finished, pulling his wand from his robes.

George swung his wand in the air, and suddenly, it seemed the sky was filled with fire. Harry's jaw dropped open at the sight. It wasn't fire. It was fireworks. Even in the bright morning sun, they shone brilliantly in the sky, as if the sky behind them darkened just to let them sparkle a little bit brighter. They exploded in every colour imaginable, popping and whistling. Some of them formed animals that chased across the sky, bobbing and weaving around each other. Others turned into flowers, and some just threw sparks in every direction. It was beautiful. Finally, after nearly five minutes, the fireworks all disappeared from the sky, and suddenly, George was in the air on his broom, a second broom, shadowing him with no rider. George swished his wand in the air, and there was a loud bang, and one last firework, a bright red and gold 'W' blazed across the sky overhead, as George, and the unoccupied broom beside him sped into the sky in the direction of The Burrow.

As they started to walk back to the house, Harry looked at Ginny. "Are you all right?" asked Harry, squeezing her hand gently.

"Better than I thought I would be," said Ginny, looking up at him and smiling, tears glistening in her eyes. "George is right. Fred would have loved that."

Harry kissed her forehead. Harry knew Ginny was right. Fred would have loved it.

A thought crept across Harry's mind, and a smile reached his lips. Ginny noticed the smile. "What are you thinking?" asked Ginny softly.

"I was just thinking how much Fred and Sirius were alike. I'll bet they are both planning a prank on my parents right now," Harry finished. Sirius had a mischievous side so much like the Weasley twins.

Harry couldn't help think that George left out the part where Fred had died because of Harry Potter. No, Harry knew that wasn't true, but he couldn't help but feel that way. Somehow though, in spite of that thought, Harry felt a little bit better after the funeral. He wasn't sure why, but he did. Maybe it was the thought of his godfather and Fred playing a prank on his parents. It was so different from what he felt after Dumbledore's funeral, but the road ahead had a lot to do with how he had felt that day. Today, the road ahead felt nearly as daunting.

The funeral for Tonks and Remus was much more solemn. They were leaving behind a son, not even a two months old. Harry could hear Teddy crying in his grandmother's arms the whole time. Teddy was even younger than Harry was when his parents died. The sound of Teddy's cries tore Harry's heart in two. Harry wondered if he had cried when his own parents died. Harry was too young to remember.

A wizard Harry did not know talked about how Tonks and Remus loved each other and loved their son and had died defending everything that was important to them. Harry couldn't help thinking of his own parents. Had someone said that at his parents' funeral?

Harry didn't immediately walk away from the twin caskets as everyone else did. When everyone else had left, he stood there with Ginny by his side.

"Are you all right?" asked Ginny.

Harry thought a moment. "I don't know," whispered Harry, his voice emotionless.

Harry let go of Ginny's hand and walked closer to the two caskets. They both sat before him, the setting sun shining off them brilliantly. On the left was Tonks, the Metamorphmagus who was always so much fun to be around. She had given Remus so much happiness after he had been denied it for so long. On the right was Remus, the last of his father's friends. Remus was the last of the Marauders. An enchanted map in Harry's school trunk was all that remained of Wormtail, Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs.

Harry took a breath and spoke. "Tonks, I want to thank you, for giving Remus the happiness he deserved," said Harry. "I know how much he loved you, and I'm glad he was able to be happy, even if it wasn't for very long. You've been a good friend, and I appreciate all you did for me." He turned to the casket on the right. "Prongs, Padfoot, and Moony, together again forever," said Harry, his voice cracking as he tried to smile, but failed. "I'll think of you, Remus, when the moon is full. I'll be glad to know you're at peace. I know that I never told you, but I really thought of you as a second godfather after Sirius died." He felt Ginny put her arm around his back, and slip her hand in his.

Harry could not hold back the tears, so he did not try. "I'll tell Teddy all about both of you, I promise. I'll make sure he knows how much you loved him, and I'll always be there for him. I never had that when I was little. I swear Teddy will."

Harry and Ginny walked away from the caskets, toward the gates, so they could Apperate back to The Burrow. As they walked, Harry thought he felt a little bit better. He felt like he had had a chance to say goodbye to Tonks and Remus. Was it as simple as that? Was that all it took to ease the pain, if only a little? Could saying goodbye really help that much? He never got that opportunity with his parents or Sirius.

Unfortunately, Fred, Tonks, and Remus' funerals were not the last they had to attend. They attended funerals for Colin Creevey as well as several Order members over the days following Fred, Tonks, and Remus' funerals.

When they were not attending funerals, Harry and the Weasley boys played Quidditch, wizard chess, or Exploding Snap, Ginny played too sometimes, when she could tear herself away from little Teddy. Ginny, Hermione, Fleur, and Mrs. Weasley spent a lot of time fussing over the baby. Harry tried to spend time with Teddy, but just looking at him made him have to blink back tears. It was strange, when he looked at Teddy, he didn't think of Remus and Tonks, he thought of his own parents. Harry hoped that in time, he would be able to keep his promise to be there for Teddy. As it was, he could hardly stand to be in the same room with him.

Harry tried to just enjoy being with his family. The guilt, pain, and loss were still ever present, always threatening to strike, especially when someone mentioned Fred or Remus or Tonks or anyone else that had been lost. Ginny could tell when he was feeling it. It was like she had radar for when he was feeling guilty, or thinking about someone who was gone. She was like a Patronus, keeping the pain and guilt at bay. She would sense it, and he would feel her hand in his, or her arms around him without even having to tell her what he was feeling. It must have been written all over his face he thought, and only Ginny could see it.

They spent a lot of time talking. She gently coaxed Harry into talking about all that had happened, something Hermione and Ron had never had much success with. They talked about all the things that had happened over the years. They talked about Harry's parents and Sirius. They talked about the night Dumbledore died. They talked about the night in the graveyard when Cedric died. They talked about it all. They even talked about his horrible life before Harry found out he was a wizard. When Ginny found out the Dursleys had made Harry sleep in a cupboard until he was eleven years old, it was all Harry could do to stop Ginny from hunting them down and cursing them. Ginny constantly reminded Harry that none of it was his fault. Harry was amazed that it was so easy to talk to Ginny about things that he had never been able to talk to anyone about before, things that hurt him more deeply than anyone could ever understand.

There were still times that it all hit Harry really hard though. No amount of talking with Ginny was going to make it all go away.

One morning, Harry was playing Quidditch with Bill, Charlie, George, Ginny, and Ron. Hermione was watching from the ground, cheering them on. It was a good time.

After playing for a couple of hours, it was time for lunch. Harry landed and went to the broom shed to put away his Firebolt. He still couldn't believe it had not been lost when they were fleeing Privet Drive.

When Harry opened the door to the shed, he stopped dead in his tracks. A jumble of old broom sticks lined one side of the shed. On the other side, where they kept all their current brooms, there was a single broom. It was Fred's broom. Had he never been the last to get his broom or first one to put it away since the funeral? Somehow, he hadn't seen the single broom alone like that.

Waves of guilt crashed over Harry like a stormy sea on a rocky coastline. It suddenly became very hard for Harry to breathe.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Charlie, landing behind him. It broke Harry out of his thoughts for a moment. Charlie must have noticed him staring into the shed.

"Nothing," said Harry breathlessly. Harry placed his Firebolt beside Fred's broom in the shed feeling like that simple act was obscene and degrading to Fred's memory. "I'm not…really hungry, I'm going to go for a walk."

Before anyone could say anything, Harry walked away briskly. The image of Fred's broom was etched in his mind. It was like it was taunting him, reminding him of what he had caused.

After a few minutes walking, he was far enough from the house that he was alone. Harry sat and leaned against a tree. The thought kept going through his mind over and over that Fred should have been on that broom playing with them. Tears fell from his eyes, and he stared at the ground in front of where he sat. They were silent tears. He had cried so many that he was passed the point of sobbing. He was almost numb, and he just let the tears fall.

Harry tried to tell himself what Ginny told him every time he felt this way. She reminded him of all the good he had done, and the people he had saved. She told him it wasn't his fault. Deep down, Harry knew she was right, but it didn't mean he still didn't feel responsible.

As Harry sat, he heard footsteps of several people coming toward him, and he had a pretty good idea who one of them was.

Ginny sat down beside him and leaned against him, slipping one hand around his back, tenderly brushing the tears from his cheeks with her other hand. As she did that, Ron knelt down in front of him, Hermione standing beside him.

"Are you all right?" whispered Ginny.

"I'm fine," said Harry. "I just saw Fred's broom and…" Harry trailed off, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Ginny rested her head on his shoulder. "It's not your fault Harry," whispered Ginny softly.

It always amazed Harry how she could put her own grief over her brother's death aside and worry about how he felt. Harry didn't think he deserved it.

"I know. It's just…I don't know," said Harry with a sigh. "I just keep thinking…if I had never met any of you that day on Platform Nine and Three Quarters…Fred might still be alive. I know, I shouldn't think like that, but… It's just so hard." Harry paused. "And I'm sorry, I know it's so much harder for all of you. Really…I'm not forgetting that. I feel selfish getting upset. He was your brother. I just can't help it…"

Harry put his face in his hands. Ginny rubbed his back and placed her other hand on his shoulder.

Ron looked from Ginny to Harry, and up at Hermione, who was frowning. "Maybe you're right," said Ron flatly.

Harry and Ginny both looked up at Ron. Hermione and Ginny were both staring daggers at Ron. If looks could kill, Ron would be dead where he knelt, but Ron dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Harry looked back at the ground. He wasn't sure how it felt for someone to agree with him for a change. Had he been less upset he might have seen what was coming.

"If we had never met, Fred might still be alive," said Ron, pausing as he stood up. "That's entirely possible." Ron paused, and in the most deliberate and cold tone Harry had ever heard from Ron, he continued, "And Ginny's skeleton would be lying in the Chamber of Secrets forever."

The silence that followed those words was deafening. Harry's head shot up, a shiver traveling up his spine, his blood running cold, and he could feel his chest tighten. Ron's face was stoic, and Hermione's eyes were closed.

If they had never met, would Ginny be dead? Surely someone else would have saved her. But they might not have. Could Ginny really have been dead if the Weasleys had never met him?

Ginny had reminded him how he had saved her many times, but for some reason, Harry had never thought that she would have died if he hadn't. In the back of his mind, he had just assumed someone else would have saved her. Somehow, Ron's words made him wonder if that were true.

Now that he thought about it, he wasn't so sure. No one else could have spoken Parseltongue to open the Chamber of Secrets. Fawkes would not have come to just anyone, it was Harry's loyalty to Dumbledore that had drawn him to the Chamber of Secrets that day. Not just anyone could have pulled the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat. As obvious as it all was, it seemed like a revelation to Harry. Ginny might have died without him.

"I'm not the smart one," said Ron, his voice somewhat less harsh as Hermione took hold of his arm. "That's Hermione's job, but I do know that Fred would have traded his life for Ginny's in a minute, without hesitation. Any of us would. So if you insist on blaming yourself for Fred's death, just remember, the tradeoff is Ginny's life. Fred would not regret it in the least. You don't have anything to feel guilty about." Ron turned and walked away, Hermione still holding onto his arm as they went.

Harry had felt Ginny shudder when Ron said they'd trade their lives for hers. Harry put his arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Ginny looked into his eyes, and Harry looked back. He could see the pain in her eyes, as he knew she could see the pain in his.

"He's right you know," Ginny informed him softly. "I would never want them to, but any one of them would have traded their life for mine."

Harry could see how hard it was for her to hear what Ron said and for her to say what she did, but he knew she was right.

Harry looked towards Ron and Hermione as they walked away. "Ron," Harry called after him.

Ron stopped and turned around, a blank expression on his face, Hermione still clinging to his arm.

"Thanks," said Harry. Ron nodded, smiled slightly, turned and he and Hermione headed to the house.

Harry pulled Ginny into a hug and just held her tightly, burying his face in her ginger hair. The thought of what could have happened to her if he had never met the Weasleys was more than frightening to him. It was more frightening than all the horrors he had ever witnessed. How could he ever regret meeting them?

"I'm sorry," said Harry into her neck, his voice muffled by her hair.

"Don't be sorry, Harry," replied Ginny softly. "I love you, and I just want you to be all right. You can't keep blaming yourself."

"I know. It's just so hard sometimes," said Harry. "I don't know what I would ever do without you. I love you so much, Ginny."

Harry could sense the smile cross her lips. "You won't have to find that out Harry, not ever, I promise," said Ginny. "I'm not going anywhere."

A week after the funerals, Hermione announced that she was going to Australia to get her parents. She had put a charm on them so they would be safely away while she was with Ron and Harry searching for the Horcruxes. Ron insisted on going with her.

Harry was glad Ron was going too. Hermione had seemed different since the day after Voldemort fell. She was quieter than Harry had ever known her to be, and she rarely smiled, or spent any time away from Ron. Harry knew he wasn't the only one feeling the pain and loss, and he was very happy that Ron and Hermione were finally together.

Harry knew it would be hard for Hermione to explain all of what had happened to her parents. Hermione's parents didn't know anything about the war. Harry thought her parents were very lucky to know nothing about the war, and he was very glad Ron was going with her.

As the days went on, Harry saw less and less of many of the Weasleys. Charlie had gone back to Romania and Bill and Fleur had gone back to Shell Cottage, Bill resuming his job at Gringotts. George stopped by occasionally, but spent most of his time at the store. With Ron and Hermione gone, this left Harry, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Tonks, and Teddy at The Burrow. Harry and Ginny spent their days talking, playing wizard chess, flying, and as often as possible finding a quite place to be alone.

The day before Ginny was to return to Hogwarts, she and Harry took a picnic lunch and found a nice place under a tree far away from the house. After lunch, they just enjoyed the day. Harry leaned against the tree, Ginny sat in front of him, leaning back against him. He had his arms around her, and Ginny was gently rubbing his arms.

"How did you sleep?" asked Ginny.

"Not too bad," Harry lied.

This was the last question he wanted her to ask him, yet she had been asking him nearly every day. Harry had started to have nightmares shortly after the funerals for Fred, Tonks, and Remus. He kept seeing his parents murdered by Voldemort and Sirius falling through the veil in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. He refused to have her worrying about him while she was back at school, so he didn't tell her. She already worried too much about him.

With Ron gone, a simple silencing charm prevented anyone from hearing him at night, when he would wake up, often screaming. He was getting just enough sleep to manage without looking like he wasn't sleeping. He didn't feel at all good though. The lack of sleep was taking its toll.

"You look a little tired, are you sure you are okay?" asked Ginny.

"Absolutely," said Harry, as he kissed the side of her head. It wasn't a complete lie. Except for the nightmares and fatigue from lack of sleep, Harry was feeling much better than he had in the days just after the battle. He just tried to keep his mind off his parents and Sirius. The nightmares were keeping the images of their deaths vivid in his mind. Talking with Ginny about everything was really making it easier, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her about the nightmares.

"Are you going to be okay while I'm back at school?" asked Ginny seriously.

Harry could hear the worry in her voice. "Please don't worry about me," said Harry. "I'm feeling a lot better lately. I'm going to be fine."

Harry was dreading Ginny leaving. It wasn't that he needed her to help drive away the thoughts that had plagued him. Harry found the need to have Ginny beside him to keep the darkness at bay was lessening. Now he just wanted her there to spend time with her. He couldn't bear the thought of not having her near him. "I am going to miss you terribly though," breathed Harry, kissing her neck. He felt her shudder as he did, and she sighed.

"It's only for three weeks," said Ginny. "But I'm going to miss you too, Harry." The sadness dripped from her voice with every word.

"I love you, Ginny," Harry whispered in her ear. "I'll love you always."

Ginny turned her head leaned sideways and looked up at him, gazing into his eyes. "And I love you too." She smiled. "I'll love you always."

Harry leaned down and kissed her, softly at first, then more passionately. Three weeks without kissing Ginny would seem like a lifetime.

The next day, Harry and Mrs. Weasley took Ginny to King's Cross so she could return to Hogwarts for the last three weeks of the school year.

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley said their goodbyes while Harry loaded Ginny's trunk onto the train. It was raining hard, and it matched Harry's mood. He had been dreading saying goodbye. Their relationship was certainly no secret, but they tried not to seem too friendly when Ginny's parents were around. Harry had the distinct impression neither Mr. nor Mrs. Weasley were at all bothered by their relationship, but she was their daughter, and he knew they couldn't help being protective.

Harry heard Ginny say to her mother, "Take care of him." Harry hated that Ginny would worry. Harry knew she could tell he wasn't sleeping well, but Ginny hadn't pushed him on it. The nightmares were continuing. Harry had found an Invigoration Charm, and it was giving him the strength to get through the days.

Ginny took Harry's hands and looked into his eyes. "Three weeks will be gone before we know it," said Ginny, trying to smile, but not doing so very convincingly.

Harry put his hand on her cheek, and softly slid his thumb back and forth lovingly. "I'll write to you every day," said Harry. He pulled her close to him and kissed her with as much passion as he ever had. She melted against him, putting her arms around his neck.

The kiss seemed to go on for hours, but it was nowhere near long enough. The whistle blew, and it was time for Ginny to board the train.

It took a tremendous effort for Harry to let go of Ginny. He watched her board the train, and then Harry stood beside Mrs. Weasley and watched until the train was out of sight, and only a faint puff of smoke was visible in the distant sky.

Harry just stood there staring off in the distance. He already missed her. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's get home, Harry," suggested Mrs. Weasley. Harry noticed she had an odd smile on her face.

When they got back to The Burrow, they both went into the kitchen. Harry could think only of Ginny. He knew she was just away for three weeks. The time would go by quickly, and they would be back together. At least, he kept telling himself that. Believing it was another matter. He felt bad that he had hardly noticed that Ron and Hermione were away, but now he would have given anything to have them around to talk to.

"I'll get lunch in a few minutes, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley with a smile.

Harry nodded. "I'm going to go upstairs and write Ginny a letter so it will get to her in the morning," said Harry, heading for the stairs.

"Harry," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes," said Harry, turning around.

"Are you in love with my daughter?" inquired Mrs. Weasley, her tone betraying none of what she was feeling.

Harry froze. Why was she asking that? He wasn't sure what to say. He knew he could not lie to her though.

"Yes…I am," Harry informed her, a smile spreading across his face. "I love her more than anything else in the world. How did you know?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Well, besides the fact that the two of you have been joined at the hip for the past two weeks…on the platform, when the train pulled out, you had the same look on your face that Arthur gets when he says goodbye to me."

Harry grinned. "That obvious?" asked Harry.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "You had better get that letter written so Ginny will get it in the morning," said Mrs. Weasley.

As the days dragged on, Harry's nightmares continued, and the Invigoration Charm was only doing so much. Harry knew Mrs. Weasley sensed something was wrong, but she wasn't prying, and he wasn't offering.

Harry could think of nothing but Ginny coming home. His days were filled with helping Mrs. Weasley around the house, going flying, and writing letters to Ginny as well as to Ron and Hermione who were still in Australia.

Harry had made sure Ginny received a letter at breakfast every day she was away. Pigwidgeon was exhausted, but the overly excited owl seemed happy to take the daily letters.

In the evenings, Harry and Mr. Weasley would talk about Muggle things. Harry finally had the opportunity to explain to him what a rubber duck was for.

It was nice not to have anything he needed to do. Since Sirius' death two years earlier, the prophecy was his purpose. He was the Chosen One. Now, Harry enjoyed just being Harry, though he would have enjoyed it a lot more if Ginny were around.

Ginny's letters came every few days, always apologetic that she hadn't written sooner, but she had a lot of homework and had been studying for final exams. Harry understood, but was still disappointed when a day went by with no letter.

About a week after Ginny left, Harry mentioned to Mrs. Weasley that he was going to go live at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He didn't want to impose any longer. Mrs. Weasley told him in no uncertain terms, he was staying with them through the summer, and after the next school year until he wanted to get his own place. She knew very well he did not want to live at his godfather's house, and told him he was anything but an imposition. Harry quickly put the idea of moving to Grimmauld Place out of his mind. He didn't want to incur the wrath of Mrs. Weasley and, honestly, he really liked it at The Burrow.

Harry did plan to visit Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place before Ginny returned. He, Ron, and Hermione had left in a hurry and still had some of their things there. Harry thought he would pick everything up, and he wanted to talk to Kreacher. Harry didn't like the idea of having a servant, but he didn't know if Kreacher wanted to be free. Not all house elves did.

Harry spent a lot of time thinking about Ginny. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. The obvious thought to propose to her went through his mind, but Harry didn't feel ready for that. He was still a mess inside and he needed get himself right before he thought of marrying Ginny. Though he had to admit, the thought of marrying Ginny made him very, very happy.

A week before Ginny was to return home Harry was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Tonks and Teddy were still asleep. Harry still couldn't bring himself to spend a lot of time with his godson. Harry could only describe what he felt like when he looked at Teddy as profound sadness, almost like being around a Dementor. He wondered if he would ever be able to spend time with the child and keep the promise he made to Tonks and Remus.

An owl tapping on the window interrupted Harry's thoughts. He didn't recognize the owl, it wasn't Pigwidgeon, and it wasn't one of the usual owls from Hogwarts.

Harry opened the window, and the owl waited while Harry untied the letter from its leg. It was addressed to 'Mr. Harry Potter,' but Harry didn't recognize the writing.

"Is it from Ginny?" asked Mr. Weasley, as he sipped his tea.

Harry looked at the letter. "No," said Harry. He sat back at the table and looked at the letter.

"Isn't that the Minister's seal?" asked Mrs. Weasley looking across the table at the letter in Harry's hands.

"It looks like it," replied Harry. He knew Kingsley Shacklebolt had been appointed temporary Minister of Magic, but he had no idea why he would be sending him a letter. Harry opened the letter and read it.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you are well and enjoying a much-deserved rest. I know it's been said countless times, but we all owe you our lives._

_If you haven't seen today's Daily Prophet yet, then you don't know that my temporary appointment, as Minister of Magic has been made permanent. I have a couple of items I would like to discuss with you. Would it be possible to meet me at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place at two o'clock today? I thought that would be more private than my office. I can't seem to go anywhere without press following me. If it is not possible, please reply by owl, otherwise I will assume I will see you there._

_Sincerely,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

_Minister of Magic_

He handed the letter to Mr. Weasley. Harry had no idea what Kingsley could want. "What do you make of it, Mr. Weasley?" asked Harry.

Mr. Weasley read the letter twice before handing it to his wife. "I don't know," said Mr. Weasley. "It's great news that Kingsley's appointment is permanent, I can't think of anyone better for the job. I don't know what he wants to see you about, but it's Kingsley, I wouldn't worry about it. The Ministry will very soon be a much different place than it has been in recent years," finished Mr. Weasley as he drained his mug of tea.

Harry was curious about what Kingsley could want, and on his first day as permanent Minister no less, but this was Kingsley, not Cornelius Fudge or Rufus Scrimgeour, so Harry wasn't worried, but he was very curious.

At two o'clock, Harry opened the door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The place didn't look in bad shape. The first thing he noticed was that the curse meant to stop Snape was gone. Harry had been sure the Death Eaters would have been all over the house, but the place looked neat and clean, much cleaner than it was the last time he saw it. Harry thought he knew why.

Harry just stood there a minute. Everywhere he looked, he could see Sirius practically climbing the walls all those months spent cooped up here. Harry knew how miserable it had made him. The memories were raw, and Harry tried to push them from his mind, but he knew being in this place made that nearly impossible.

Not all the memories were bad though. He remembered how happy Sirius had been when they were all there for Christmas the year before he died. This memory brought a smile to Harry's face. Harry heard a 'pop' and turned around to see Kreacher.

"Hello, Harry Potter," said Kreacher. "The Minister is in the kitchen, awaiting your arrival."

"Thank you, Kreacher," said Harry. "You've done a wonderful job cleaning up the house. It looks great."

"Thank you, Harry Potter," replied Kreacher with a bow.

Harry walked down the steps to the kitchen and found Kingsley sipping tea at the kitchen table.

"Harry," said Kingsley cheerfully, standing to greet him. "Wonderful to see you."

"Glad to see you too, Minister, and congratulations," said Harry. Harry knew Mr. Weasley was right. Kingsley was the best man for the job. Harry stuck his hand out and Kingsley shook his hand.

"First," began Kingsley with a grin, "my friends call me Kingsley. Second, thank you. Kreacher prepared us some tea, why don't we chat a bit, then we can get down to business."

Harry and Kingsley each drank their tea, and made small talk. Kingsley wanted to know how Harry had been, and Harry asked Kingsley about being Minister. It was a very pleasant time.

After they finished their tea, Harry sat back in his chair. "So, Kingsley, what business did you want to discuss?" questioned Harry.

"Headmistress McGonagall contacted me regarding your request that Professor Snape's portrait be hung in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts," said Kingsley.

Harry wasn't sure what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't that. "Yes. It's only appropriate, as his deserting his post was part of his cover," said Harry.

Kingsley sighed. "You see, Harry, here is the problem. I have no issue with taking your word that Snape was on our side, and that his killing Professor Dumbledore was arranged," explained Kingsley. "Based on that, I would be happy to recommend that the Board of Governors order his portrait installed immediately, which they would of course do."

"But," said Harry.

"But," began Kingsley with a sigh, "I'm a politician now, and there are certain things that just have to be done. I can't authorize his portrait without being able to provide your account of these events. I'm truly sorry Harry, I know how much you hate seeing your name in public, but I just can't authorize the portrait without a statement from you that I can release to the public."

Harry could tell that Kingsley meant it when he said he was sorry. Harry understood his predicament. Kingsley had been asked to take a person believed to have murdered the previous Hogwarts Headmaster and bestow upon him a great honor. Some people were bound to take offense.

"You do realize I have no evidence, only my word," said Harry. This wasn't completely true, he had kept the memories Snape had given him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to make them public. Some of what he learned in those memories was private.

"Harry, I know past dealings with the Ministry and Daily Prophet have been horrible for you," said Kingsley. "Believe me when I say, a detailed account of Snape's activities will suffice. I can promise you, this is all we need, a statement to release to the public with a statement of my support, and then the announcement that the portrait is being put up, and that's all."

"Kingsley, some of the details are very personal to me," said Harry slowly. "If, just between us, you are agreeable for me to omit these certain details, then I'll be happy to do it. Professor Snape deserves to have his name cleared."

Kingsley smiled at him and nodded. "Why don't you come to the Ministry tomorrow, to my office, and we'll take your statement and prepare it for release."

"That would be fine," Harry replied.

Kingsley was quiet for a moment. "I am afraid I have some rather unfortunate news, but I feel you have the right to know before it shows up in the Daily Prophet tomorrow," said Kingsley.

"What's happened?" asked Harry concernedly.

"It's about the Malfoys," said Kingsley slowly. "Narcissa has managed to convince enough members of the Wizengamot that her actions in helping you in the Forbidden Forest are proof that her family has reformed. It will be in the paper tomorrow and Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco will be released tomorrow as well. They aren't completely free. They will be subject to searches of their residences and will be monitored to make sure they aren't associating with known dark arts supporters, but other than that, they will be free. I don't know if it helps, but I have spoken to Lucius, and he really seems to have realized the error of his ways."

Harry just stared at him, then down at the table, but Harry said nothing. He thought it was strange, he wasn't even angry at this news. His honest reaction was that he didn't even care. After all the things the three of them had done, they were going to get away with everything.

"You know, Kingsley," said Harry, looking back up at him. "I should be livid. I should want to go give the Wizengamot a piece of my mind. Two months ago, this news would have made me completely enraged. But now I don't think I even care." Harry smiled.

Kingsley looked at Harry. "I wasn't expecting that reaction," replied Kingsley. "I thought you would be rather upset."

"Don't get me wrong," began Harry, "I hate to see them get away with everything they've done. But, I think maybe facing death has made me realize, I've spent too much time in my life thinking about people named Malfoy and others like them. I have a lot better things to think about." Harry smiled again, thinking of Ginny. "Life is too precious to waste a minute of it."

Kingsley smiled. "You are a wise man, Harry Potter. You remind me a lot of a wizard I once knew," said Kingsley. "You remind me an awful lot of Albus Dumbledore."

"Thank you," was all Harry could say. He couldn't think of a greater compliment. Somehow he didn't feel quite deserving of it though, maybe one day, but not yet.

"There is more," said Kingsley. "As you may know, Dolores Umbridge was under investigation into her activities at Hogwarts while still working at the Ministry for the year following her brief time as High Inquisitor and Headmistress at Hogwarts. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was preparing to arrest her. When the Death Eaters seized control of the Ministry of Magic, she was, apparently, made a Death Eater. She fought alongside them in the Battle of Hogwarts."

Harry was having a little less success ignoring this. Harry ran his finger over the scars that were still showing on the back of his right hand.

"She is going to go to Azkaban," said Kingsley. "She had too many friends to get life, but she will go away for a very long time."

Harry nodded. "Let me know when she's up for parole," said Harry. "I'll want to testify."

Kingsley nodded. "Somehow I knew you would," grinned Kingsley.

Harry stood up to leave, but Kingsley motioned him to stay. "There is one other thing?" asked Kingsley. "What are you planning to do with this house?"

"I haven't given it much thought," said Harry. "I'm not going to live here. Does the Order have any use for it?"

Kingsley smiled. "Yes, actually," said Kingsley. "Too many people know about this house for it to be a secret location, but the Order of the Phoenix's secrecy was largely due to You Know…Voldemort." Kingsley seemed to struggle to get the name out. "With him gone, I would like to continue to use it for the Order. I am giving the Order of the Phoenix official status with the Ministry. It will stay autonomous, but by being recognized by the Ministry, the Order will be in a better position to help protect the wizarding world from threats. I just needed a place to make their official headquarters."

This was perfect, Harry thought. Sirius would be happy that his family home would continue to be used for good. "Consider it done. This house now belongs to the Order of the Phoenix. Do you need me to sign anything to that effect?" asked Harry.

"I'll get the paperwork for you to sign when you come to my office tomorrow," said Kingsley. "Thank you, Harry," he said with a smile. Kingsley shook Harry's hand, and headed towards the door. He stopped and turned back towards Harry. "I'll be in touch about scheduling the ceremony."

"What ceremony is that?" inquired Harry curiously.

Kingsley smiled. "The Order of Merlin Ceremony, of course," Kingsley informed him. "Neville Longbottom will be receiving the Order of Merlin, Third Class. Ron and Hermione will each be receiving the Order of Merlin, Second Class, and you of course, will be receiving the Order of Merlin, First Class. I know you probably would rather forget all that's happened, but it would be my greatest honor to present you with the Order of Merlin."

Harry couldn't say he was surprised. He had hoped this wouldn't happen, but he knew better.

"All right," said Harry softly. "Let's just try not to make it a complete circus." 

Kingsley laughed. "I'll do my best," said Kingsley, and he headed out of the kitchen.

A few moments later, Harry heard the front door close.

Harry collected up his, Ron, and Hermione's belongings. There wasn't that much, but he collected it all up in a trunk, and dragged it in front of the fireplace. He was planning to Floo back to The Burrow.

"Kreacher," called Harry.

With a 'pop,' the elf was in front of him, Regulus' locket hanging proudly around his neck.

"What can I do for you, Harry Potter?" asked Kreacher with a bow.

"I am giving this house to the Order of the Phoenix to use as their headquarters permanently," Harry informed him.

Kreacher looked at the ground. "We will be leaving the house permanently, master?" asked Kreacher, a look of mild panic on the little elf's face.

Harry could see the thought of leaving this house was very difficult for him. "That's up to you," said Harry. "Do you want to stay here?"

"Kreacher has always lived here, but Kreacher's home is with his master," said the elf.

"I can't stay here Kreacher. There are too many memories here. If you would like to stay here and maintain the house for the Order of the Phoenix, I will free you and see that the Order pays you for your services to maintain the house," said Harry.

The elf seemed to be thinking it over. "Kreacher would…like to stay," said the elf.

Harry smiled, and pulled a sock out of his pocket and handed it to the elf. "Thank you for everything, Kreacher," said Harry.

The elf bowed low, and then with a 'pop,' he was gone. Harry looked into the flames in the fireplace for a second. He picked up a handful of Floo powder from the pot next to the fireplace, and threw it into the fire. The emerald flames shot up. Harry took one last look around at his godfather's house, and hauled the trunk into the fire, saying "The Burrow," loudly, as he disappeared into the flames.


	3. Part III

**Chapter 37, Picking up the Pieces**

**By**

**Lewis M. Brooks, III**

**Chapter 37 – Picking up the Pieces, Part III**

The next day, Harry gave his statement at the Ministry and made arrangements for the Order to pay Kreacher. He signed the papers, making Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place officially owned by the Order of the Phoenix.

As much as Harry was glad to no longer own his godfather's house, it was not as easy to sign it away as he thought it would be. His stomach tied itself in a knot as he scribbled his name with the quill, but Harry knew it was the right thing to do.

Before returning to The Burrow, Harry went to Diagon Alley to do a few errands. He also had one other stop to make.

The previous night, in addition to Harry's usual nightmares, he had dreamt about Gringotts. He didn't really remember it specifically, but he knew he had gone to Sirius' vault. This was the only dream he could recall since his nightmares started that wasn't about Sirius falling through the veil or his parents being murdered. It had occurred to Harry that ever since he inherited Sirius' estate, he had never been to his vault at Gringotts. Harry had chalked it up to a subconscious reminder of that fact. He thought he ought to go and see if there was anything interesting in the vault. He had never even found out exactly how much money Sirius had left him.

Harry also wanted to buy Ginny a present for when she got home. It had occurred him that he had never actually bought Ginny anything. Her birthday was August the eleventh, so he had never even got her a birthday present. He wasn't really sure what he wanted to get for her, but he wanted his first gift to her to be something very special. Harry found a jewelry store, and started looking around.

"Can I help you?" asked the older witch behind the counter with just a hint of a German accent. She had graying hair and a very kind smile.

"Yes…I'm looking for something for my girlfriend," replied Harry, as he looked at the display cases full of jewelry. He couldn't help but smile. It felt so good to say those words without having to worry that it put Ginny in danger.

"What kind of something are you looking for?" asked the witch. "We have necklaces, brooches, bracelets, anklets, rings, and all kinds of trinkets and knick-knacks."

"I'm not really sure," Harry said, scanning over the jewelry in the display case. "I want it to be something very special."

"You said this was for your girlfriend?" asked the witch.

He looked up, "Yes, it is," said Harry with a smile.

"Are you sure you're not looking for an engagement ring?" reasoned the witch. "It's not hard to tell you're in love. I've seen that look in many a young wizard's eyes before."

"Not yet," said Harry sheepishly. "Someday…but not now."

"But you do intend to marry her?" asked the witch with a smile.

Harry didn't need to think about the answer. "Yes, some day I will ask her to marry me…when the time is right," smiled Harry.

"Well," began the witch, "if you are that committed, you could get her a promise ring."

"What is a promise ring?" asked Harry curiously. "I've never heard of that before."

The witch smiled. "A promise ring can be given for any vow, but often a wizard who plans to someday propose to a witch will give her a promise ring as a promise to one day propose," the woman explained.

That would be perfect, Harry thought. "I think that's what I'll get," said Harry. "Is a promise ring supposed to be a certain type of ring?"

"No, any ring can be a promise ring," said the witch. "It should be worn on the right hand though, to avoid confusion. I have some nice ones here." The witch reached under the counter and pulled out a large tray with rows of rings.

Harry eagerly scanned the tray of rings. They were all beautiful. There were sapphires, and diamonds, and rubies, emeralds, and some stones Harry had never seen before. None of them jumped out at him as being the right one though. The witch showed Harry several other trays full of rings, but none of them felt like the right one either. Harry thanked the witch for her time and left the store. He thought he might try a Muggle jewelry store in London before returning home.

Harry walked down Diagon Alley toward Gringotts. Every once in a while, someone stopped and stared at him. It wasn't hard to guess why. Harry's face had been on the cover of newspapers for years, and hardly any other person had appeared on any front page for weeks.

The stores that had been opened to sell dark objects were closed or had signs proclaiming 'Closing Down' sales. Many of the shops that had closed during Voldemort's reign were now open again, and Diagon Alley was returning to its former glory.

As Harry walked past Madam Malkin's, he saw a little girl with long dark hair, who looked about eight years old standing in front of the store. As Harry walked by her, he heard a small voice from beside him.

"M-Mr. P-Potter," squeaked the voice.

Harry turned. The little girl had taken a couple of steps towards him. She was nervously biting her bottom lip.

"Yes," said Harry with a warm smile as he knelt down on one knee in front of her. He had the distinct feeling she wanted to say something to him.

She opened her mouth to speak a couple of times but said nothing. Then she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.

"Thank you," squeaked the girl, before she let go of him and hurried into Madam Malkin's, wiping tears from her cheeks.

Harry watched her go up to a woman who looked at her concernedly. She was clearly the girl's mother. Harry looked away, and headed down the street, unsure what of what to make of all that.

When Harry reached Gringotts, he headed up the white marble stairs. The goblins flanking the entrance looked nervous as Harry pushed open the burnished bronze doors. Harry grinned to himself as he pushed through the silver doors warning thieves about the dangers within.

Harry walked up to the queue in front of one of the desks and when it was his turn, he walked up to the goblin.

"I need to get into a vault that I inherited. I don't have the key," explained Harry.

"Do you have a key to a vault of your own?" asked the goblin, not looking up from the ledger he was looking at.

"Yes," said Harry, he had brought the key to his parents' vault just in case he needed it.

"The lock to the vault you inherited will have changed to match that of your own vault. I will need the name of the previous owner of the vault and your name," said the goblin, still not looking up from his ledger.

"The vault previously belonged to my godfather, Sirius Black," said Harry. "My name is Harry James Potter."

Harry could see the goblin's eyes widen, though he didn't look up. Suddenly, the goblin's head shot up and he looked at Harry. He had a look of utter shock and near terror on his face.

"Uh…umm…just a minute, I'll get someone to help you," stammered the goblin. He nearly fell off his chair as he turned and ran toward an office in the back.

Harry was suddenly wondering if coming was such a good idea. After all, his last trip had ended with himself, Ron, and Hermione flying out on the back of a nearly blind dragon. The goblins couldn't be very happy with him, no matter how necessary it was.

After a few moments, Harry heard someone call his name behind him. "Harry!"

Harry turned to see Bill Weasley walking over to him from another office.

"Hi, Bill," greeted Harry with a smile and a sigh of relief. "How are you?"

"Not too bad," replied Bill, as he reached out to shake Harry's hand. "I'm going to be taking you to Sirius' vault."

Harry took Bill's waiting hand and shook it, wondering why he of all people would be taking him down. Harry had thought that only goblins took people down to the vaults.

Bill seemed to read the question on his face. "There was some question about who was going to take you down to the vault. After your last visit, the goblins are somewhat nervous to take you down. They asked me for obvious reasons," finished Bill with a smile.

Harry grinned. He should have known.

Bill took Harry down to the vault. It was on the same level as that of Bellatrix Lestrange. Along the way they made small talk. Harry asked how Fleur was and how work at Gringotts was going. Bill asked Harry how he was, and Harry, of course, left out his nightmares. When they got to the vault, Bill opened it. "Harry, take as long as you need, I'll just wait outside."

Harry nodded and entered the vault. It looked a lot like his parents' vault, but bigger, and with much more gold. Harry knew the money he inherited from his parents was one of the larger wizarding fortunes. The Potter family had been rich for hundreds of years, and Harry would never have to worry about money as long as he lived. As large as the Potter fortune was, it paled in comparison to the wealth of the Black family.

Harry had enough gold to take Ginny on a permanent vacation anywhere they wanted to go for the rest of their lives. He didn't want to do that, of course. He wanted to be an Auror, even though he didn't need the income. It was nice to know he could just live out in luxury if he wished. After all he had been through, it was nice to have the option.

Harry wasn't sure what he expected might be there other than gold. There were a number of other things beyond galleons. There were gold and silver goblets and plates. An ancient looking crown covered in diamonds sat on a shelf. A suit of armor that appeared to be made out of gold and silver stood in one corner. Relics made of gold didn't really interest Harry. He did notice some stacks of papers on a shelf.

He went over and started to rifle through them. They were old records of sales and purchases of land and other legal documents that were long since outdated and useless. He did find one thing of interest.

Harry unfolded a dusty piece of parchment to find that it was his birth certificate. It had his parents' signatures on it. Harry put it in the pouch that hung from his neck.

He was almost done going through the last pile, when he noticed a small box behind it. Harry picked up the box and removed the cover. Inside was a small jewelry box along with a small piece of parchment. Harry unfolded the parchment and began to read it.

_My Dearest Harry,_

_If you are reading this, then it means that your father and I have died. Though I take comfort in the fact that if you are reading this, then you have survived._

_As I write this, your father and I are preparing to go into hiding with you._

Harry stopped reading, and was suddenly unable to breathe. His mother had written this. More than that, she had written this to him.

_I don't know what is going to happen. I am giving this to Sirius to keep for you in the event that something happens to me and your father. This ring is very special to me, Harry._

Harry gasped. He stopped reading and picked up the jewelry box and opened it. What he saw stopped his heart. Sitting in the box was a gold ring with a brilliant heart shaped emerald set into it. Harry knew the colour of the emerald matched his eyes exactly, as it had his mother's. He took the ring out of the box and looked at it. He saw an inscription around the band, it read, 'My Heart Is Yours Forever'. Harry gasped for the second time. He had said those exact words to Ginny when he told her he loved her that morning in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry was stunned at the coincidence. But was it a coincidence? After living for almost eighteen years with a prophecy, it was hard to think anything was a coincidence anymore. Harry just stared at the ring a moment. He closed the small box set it back down in the larger box, and returned to reading the note.

_Your father gave me this ring after he told me he loved me for the first time. I treasure it with all my heart. It was the inscription that made it so special. I knew he would always love me. It is the second greatest thing your father has ever given me. What is the first? Of course, you are the greatest thing he ever gave me, and I think it is only fitting that you should have this ring._

Tears flowed freely down Harry's cheeks, but he continued to read.

_I hope that someday, you will find someone who will love you as much as I love your father, and I hope you will give her this ring. I am sorry I will not be there to see it on the finger of a very lucky girl, but I will always be there in spirit. Your father and I will always be watching over you._

_For this ring, I ask only one thing in return, Harry. Be happy. Be happy every day that you can be. That is all I ask._

_I am afraid that terrible trials lay ahead for you, but I know you will meet them with courage and bravery. Remember us, and let the memories give you strength. Our love will always be with you._

_Love Always,_

_Mum_

Harry just stared at the note, his tears still flowing freely down his cheeks. He couldn't quite believe it. Of all days to decide to come to Sirius' vault, he would come today and find this. It was like his mother and Sirius somehow knew that on this day he would come here, and would know what he was looking for. Was the dream a message from his mother? Had he subconsciously always known it was here? Harry couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. As the tears began to subside, he let out a small sob.

"Harry," said Bill, coming into the vault, concern etched on his face. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know," shrugged Harry almost unconsciously.

Bill took a couple of steps towards him. Harry wiped the tears from his eyes, put the note in the box with the ring, and put the cover back on. He slipped it into pouch and turned to Bill. "I'm fine, Bill," said Harry. "It just brings back a lot…Sirius' vault. I'm all done, I'm ready to go."

Harry and Bill went back to the lobby. Bill made a joke about at least not having to ride out on a dragon. Harry smiled at that, but he was too lost in thoughts of the ring to make much conversation.

He left Gringotts and walked around for a bit, trying to clear his mind. It took a little while for his mind to stop swimming over the ring and his dream, but he pushed the thoughts away. In some ways, it didn't matter why he had the dream. It just mattered that he had the ring.

Harry got some ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, which was now being run by his son Dexter. Harry had always wondered if Florean Fortescue was related to the Dexter Fortescue whose picture hung in the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts. According to Dexter, he was named for his great grandfather, who was indeed a past Hogwarts Headmaster. Harry told him how sorry he was to hear of his father's death. The Death Eaters had killed Florean Fortescue sometime during the last year.

Harry continued to walk for a while. As he walked past the shops, he paused for a moment outside of Eeylops Owl Emporium. He had thought of purchasing another owl. It was strange not having Hedwig around anymore, but Harry had decided he would never own another owl. No owl could replace Hedwig and Harry wasn't going to try. He kept walking, and came upon a store he knew very well: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

He should go in and say hello to George, Harry thought. He hadn't been to the store since Fred's death, and he knew he couldn't avoid it forever. Harry entered the shop, there were only a few customers looking around.

As Harry entered the store, he saw George standing by the counter, being hugged around the waist, by a very familiar young girl with long black hair. Her mother stood near them, and was speaking to George.

"…ever since I told Annie you wanted her to come in and get a Pygmy Puff on her birthday, she has talked of nothing else," said the woman.

"Oh, well, she's my favorite girl," said George, as he patted her on the head. "Now, why don't you and your Mum, go pick out your Pygmy Puff," said George to the girl.

"Thanks, George," she squeaked, and headed off with her mother toward a display of Pygmy Puffs in the back of the store.

George turned and saw Harry standing by the entrance. "Harry," called George.

Harry walked over toward the register. "Hi, George," said Harry. "I was in the area and thought I would stop by to see how things were." Harry could almost feel Fred's presence in the shop the Weasley twins had built with the thousand galleons Harry won in the Triwizard Tournament. It had been a worthwhile donation.

"I'm doing all right," smiled George. "Plenty to do. I can't wait until Ron comes back to give me a hand, though. I've got plenty of employees, but I can't test everything on myself."

"If you need some help, I would be happy to lend a hand," said Harry. The words were out of his mouth before Harry realized what he was saying.

"I appreciate the offer, but it can wait until Ron gets back. Besides, if I test anything on you, Mum will have my head," said George with a laugh. "I'm managing. It's just…hard sometimes. It's not the same, you know."

"I know," said Harry solemnly. Harry had come a long way toward being able to talk about Fred without letting it upset him. Still, it wasn't easy for him. He couldn't imagine how hard it was for George.

"Who was that?" inquired Harry, nodding toward the back of the store, where the little girl and her mother were looking at the Pygmy Puffs.

"Oh, that's Tanya and her daughter Annie," smiled George. "Tanya works here. Annie spends a lot of time here too." Fred lowered his voice. "Tanya's husband, Annie's father, was a Muggle-born. He was murdered by Death Eaters last November. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," said Harry with a shrug.

"How are you doing, Harry?" asked George with a smile, apparently not realizing he was more than curious when he asked about the girl and her mother.

"I'm missing your sister terribly," said Harry with a laugh. "I don't know what I would ever do without her."

"You be good to her," George said in a fake stern voice. Then he smiled. "I've never seen her happier than when she's with you Harry. I feel like Ron does, very protective of Ginny, but…well…if she has to be dating someone…I guess I'd rather it be you." George smiled.

"Thanks, George," grinned Harry. "Well, I should get going. I've got one more stop to make and I don't want to be late for dinner."

Harry and George shared a brief hug, and Harry turned to leave, but he saw something hanging above the door and stopped. It was a copy of the Daily Prophet that had been framed. The headline read, 'Our Hero, The Boy Who Lived, Triumphant!' there was a picture of Harry below the headline. Harry had seen this issue of the Daily Prophet before, but it looked so different framed and hung like it was.

George walked up behind Harry and put a hand on his shoulder. "Fred would be very upset with me if I didn't put that up," said George. "We joined the Order of the Phoenix to make sure we would see that headline someday."

Harry shook his head slowly. "It shouldn't be my picture up there, George," said Harry. "It should be Fred's, and Remus', and Tonks' pictures. They are the heroes. I'm just a teenager with a scar on my head and far too much blood on my hands."

"You're far too hard on yourself, Harry," said George. "My sister would kick your behind from one end of Diagon Alley to the other if she heard you talking like that."

In spite of the ache in his heart, Harry smiled. "Yeah, she would," whispered Harry. "I wish she were here to do it."

"You better get going, Mum will be upset if you are late for dinner," said George. "And you know she'll blame me."

Harry smiled, nodded, and headed out of the shop. He walked for a while, then decided he had better get to the last stop he needed to make. He couldn't put it off forever.

Harry Apperated in front of the graveyard gates. He immediately noticed how run down the place was. A river ran by one side of the cemetery, the banks were littered with rubbish. Harry didn't think it was a very nice place for someone to spend eternity. The cold and overcast day didn't help.

Harry was alone, not one other living person was in the cemetery. Harry walked up and down the rows of headstones looking for the name. He finally found it. The headstone was made of gray polished stone, and simply lettered with three lines of text and two small crests. Harry read the words aloud. "Severus Snape, born January ninth, 1960, died May second, 1998." Below the words were the crests of the Order of the Phoenix and Slytherin House.

There had been no funeral, and Harry understood why. He just felt bad that after all that Professor Snape had done, no-one was here to mourn him.

Harry knew that Professor Snape had a home not far away, and that was why the Order had chosen this spot. Somehow, the dreary weather and rundown appearance suited Professor Snape.

Harry had been thinking about coming for a while, but it wasn't until he gave his statement to Kingsley that morning that he realized he really had to come. Thinking back to the Daily Prophet hanging in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Harry could only think about how it should have been Professor Snape's picture.

"Professor Snape," said Harry aloud. "I wanted to thank you. I understand now why you hated me so much, and also why you would protect me. You loved my mother. Thank you for the memories you gave me, I'm glad I know now." Harry paused. The cold breeze was getting slightly harder.

"I also wanted to apologize," said Harry. "The night Professor Dumbledore died I called you a coward. You are anything but a coward. I've never met a braver man, and I doubt I ever will."

Harry took his wand from his pocket, and pointed it at the headstone, muttering an incantation under his breath. Words etched themselves in the stone beneath the crests. "A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave," Harry read. "Mahatma Gandhi said that. I heard it on television years ago. I don't know why I remembered it, but I always have. It seemed appropriate."

At that moment, Harry heard a twig snap and whirled around to find Narcissa and Draco Malfoy standing about twenty feet away. He hadn't heard them approach until one of them stepped on a small branch. Harry raised his wand on instinct, but neither of them moved.

After a few seconds, Harry lowered his wand and took a deep breath. "Old habits die hard," muttered Harry to himself. Harry turned back toward the headstone. Although he didn't really care that they had been released, seeing them standing there, free, was another thing altogether. Harry was not going to let them get to him.

"Congratulations, I heard the Wizengamot decided not to send you to Azkaban," remarked Harry tonelessly, without looking towards them. He paused. "I was just leaving."

Harry turned and walked past the two Malfoys, purposely not looking at either of them. "Wait," said Narcissa, as both she and Draco turned around.

Harry stopped and turned around. "What is it?" asked Harry flatly. He couldn't hide how he felt about them from his voice.

"I wanted to thank you, for saving Draco's life," said Narcissa appreciatively. Harry could see Draco stiffen when she said it, and Draco stared at the ground. "You didn't have to save him. After everything…well…that we did."

Harry thought a moment. He wasn't thinking it consciously at the time, but he knew now exactly why he saved Draco from the Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement.

"Yes I did," replied Harry. "Has Draco told you what happened on top of the Astronomy Tower?"

Narcissa looked at Draco, who was now staring at the ground. She looked back to Harry. "Severus said he killed Dumbledore before Draco could," said Narcissa.

"Dumbledore tried to save Draco," said Harry. "I was there at the top of the Astronomy Tower under my Invisibility Cloak." Harry could see Draco's eyes go wide. "Dumbledore cast a spell so I couldn't move. I watched the whole thing. Draco wasn't going to kill Dumbledore." Harry's gaze fell to Draco. "He knew you weren't a killer. He had a lot more faith in you than I did. I had to save you." Harry paused. "It's what Dumbledore would have done…it's what I had to do."

"I don't know how to thank you," said Narcissa.

"Stay out of trouble," said Harry looking at Draco, who looked back at him, a blank expression on his face. "That's what you can do for me."

Harry turned to leave, but after a few steps, he heard a voice from behind him. This time it was Draco. "Potter!"

Harry stopped and turned around, but said nothing. Draco was staring right at him. "I'm sorry," whispered Draco. "Thank you." It seemed to pain him to say the words, but he seemed quite sincere.

Harry nodded, but said nothing. He turned and left the cemetery.

When Harry returned to The Burrow, Mrs. Weasley was sitting at the kitchen table. Harry got the distinct impression she was waiting for him.

"Harry, how are you?" asked Mrs. Weasley, standing to greet him with a hug. "Did you have a nice day?"

Harry could hear in her voice and see in her eyes that she was worried about something. "I'm fine. I got some things done I needed to," said Harry. He noticed a piece of parchment on the table that had the Gringotts logo on it. "Did Bill send you an owl?"

Mrs. Weasley looked at the parchment on the table. "Yes. He said you went to Sirius' vault and that you were upset when you left. Bill was worried about you," said Mrs. Weasley.

Harry should have known Bill would do that.

"It was no big deal," sighed Harry as he placed his hand on the pocket containing the box he had taken from Sirius' vault. "It was just hard to be there."

"Do you want to talk about it?" urged Mrs. Weasley.

"No, it's fine," said Harry with a smile. He really didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to tell anyone about the ring until he had a chance to give it to Ginny.

Harry thought a lot about Ginny over the next few days as her return drew nearer. Harry would often go to his room, take out the ring and look at it, imagining what it would look like on her finger, and what it must have looked like on his mother's finger. Harry read his mother's note over and over. He read it so many times that he had each word memorized.

The night before Ginny was to return from Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley received an owl from Ron saying that he and Hermione were back in Britain at Hermione's parents home, and would be coming back to the Burrow in a few days.

Harry was glad that Ron and Hermione were coming home, he had missed them, and hoped that Hermione was in better spirits than before she left.

Ron was not the redhead he was most anxious to see though. Harry couldn't wait for Ginny another minute. Ginny had sent him a letter when she saw his statement concerning Professor Snape in the Daily Prophet. She thought it was wonderful that he had done it, and was very proud of him. She knew how hard that was for him to do.

Unfortunately for Harry, he was so excited to see Ginny the next day that he forgot to put the Silencing Charm around his room that night. At around ten o'clock, he had another nightmare, and woke up screaming as he did so often. With no charm though, Mrs. Weasley heard him even with two floors between their rooms.

She threw open the door. "Harry, are you all right?" asked Mrs. Weasley, looking at him, sitting up in bed, pale, sweating, and shaking.

"Nightmare," panted Harry, as he realized he had forgotten the Silencing Charm and cursed at himself under his breath.

Mrs. Weasley came over and sat on the edge of the bed. She pulled him into a hug and held him. After a few minutes, Harry's breathing slowed, and he stopped shaking. He saw Mr. Weasley was now standing in the doorway, looking concerned.

"How long have you been having nightmares, Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley in a motherly tone.

"I haven't had one in a long time," Harry lied. He was sure that was not going to suffice as an answer.

Mrs. Weasley looked at him. "Harry, I've raised six sons, believe me, I know when someone is lying to me," said Mrs. Weasley. "You aren't a good liar."

She was not angry, though Harry was sure that wasn't going to last long. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I've been having them for a while now," said Harry.

"How long is a while?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

Harry stared down at the bed, not wanting to look her in the eye. "Since about a week after the funerals," Harry said. "Right around the time Ron and Hermione left."

He glanced up at her. Mrs. Weasley had an expression of horror on her face. "A month! You've been having nightmares like this for a month! That's why you've looked so tired. Why didn't you say something?" demanded Mrs. Weasley.

Harry hung his head. "Ginny worries about me so much," sighed Harry in a defeated tone. "I'm really much better than I was right after the funerals…except for the nightmares. I just didn't want Ginny, or anyone, to worry."

Mrs. Weasley pulled him into another hug. "Harry, I know how much you have talked to Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley. "I know how much she has helped you, and I can see how much better you have been lately. Why didn't you tell her about the nightmares?"

Harry knew she could tell it wasn't only about not wanting them to worry. He hadn't wanted to worry Ginny or her mother that was the truth, but he also knew there was nothing they could do.

"Ginny can't do anything about my nightmares," said Harry softly. "This isn't me blaming myself for anything. During the day, I'm really doing all right. I just keep seeing my parents and Sirius die over and over again when I close my eyes. It's fact, nothing that can be changed by worrying you and Ginny."

Harry could see Mrs. Tonks standing with Mr. Weasley. He heard Mr. Weasley ask her if Teddy had woken up, but she told him he hadn't.

Harry could see how upset Mrs. Weasley was. She was angry, but she was far more concerned.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. "Why don't you go to sleep Harry, I'll sit with you until you fall asleep," said Mrs. Weasley. "Tomorrow, when we pick up Ginny, you can tell her about your nightmares."

"Please," said Harry desperately. "I promise I will tell her, but not tomorrow. I was hoping to spend some time with her. It's been three weeks, but it feels like three years. I promise, I'll tell her first thing the day after tomorrow. Please."

Harry was practically begging her. Harry had planned to give Ginny the promise ring the next night and wanted to spend the day with her first. The last thing he wanted to do on Ginny's first day back was to upset her.

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Okay, but you must promise me that you will tell her the day after tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Do you promise?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"I promise," replied Harry, relieved that he had convinced her.

"Lie down, Harry. I'll stay until you fall asleep," said Mrs. Weasley in a tone that dripped with care and understanding. She turned toward the door. Mrs. Tonks had apparently gone back to bed. "Go to bed Arthur, I'll be along in a little bit." Mr. Weasley nodded and headed out of the room.

Harry lay down, and after a few minutes, he closed his eyes. He was only pretending to be asleep, but he must have done it well. A few minutes later, he heard the door click closed.

When he was sure Mrs. Weasley had gone to bed. Harry grabbed his wand from the nightstand and cast the Silencing Charm.

It didn't matter though, Harry couldn't go back to sleep. He sat up all night, trying to figure out why it was he kept seeing his parents and Sirius die when he closed his eyes.

He really was feeling so much better than he had in the days right after the funerals. Harry wasn't spending all day blaming himself for everything anymore. It hit him sometimes, and he did still feel guilty, but he was dealing with it. When he thought of his parents, or Sirius, or anyone else he had lost, it made him sad, but was not the terrible despair he had been feeling. Why was it, then, that images of their deaths were haunting his dreams?

Harry tried to reason it out. He wasn't dreaming of anyone else who had died, just his parents and Sirius. The only other major problem he had was that he couldn't spend time with Teddy without feeling profoundly sad. Ever since the funeral for Tonks and Remus, the feeling of sadness he had around Teddy was so overwhelming he could hardly breathe. He couldn't spend time with Teddy at all.

Then something suddenly clicked in Harry's mind. He remembered what he had thought at Remus and Tonks' funeral. He had wondered what had been said at his parents' funeral. Was that it? After all this time, was it because he couldn't remember their funeral? Sirius had never even had a funeral. There was no body to bury.

The funerals had made Harry feel better, though he didn't know why. He had only been a year old for his parents' funeral. Finally, Harry understood. When he was with Teddy, he wasn't feeling sad for Teddy. He was feeling sad for himself.

Suddenly it seemed so obvious. He had never had the opportunity to say goodbye to his parents and Sirius. Harry contemplated this for the rest of the night, with an idea forming in the back of his mind. It would have to wait though. He wanted to spend tomorrow with Ginny, and he had been looking forward to it since the minute she left. He had been rehearsing giving her the ring for days, and he wasn't going to wait another day.

The next morning, Harry, Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley were waiting on Platform nine and three quarters for the Hogwarts Express. When the train pulled to a stop, Ginny practically leapt from the train into Harry's waiting arms.

Harry held her tightly and kissed her. After several long moments, they broke the kiss and stared into each other's eyes. "I missed you," said Harry. "I didn't think you would ever get back."

"I missed you too, Harry," said Ginny with a big smile. "I'm so glad to be home."

Harry kissed her again. After a few moments, they pulled apart, and reluctantly, Harry put Ginny down. Ginny hugged her mother, as Mr. Weasley gave Harry a slightly disapproving, but somewhat amused look. It quickly turned into a smile.

That afternoon, they spent all day on the couch talking and, when no one else was around, snogging. Harry was never so happy in his life. He could tell by the look in Ginny's eyes that she was just as happy as he was.

It was getting late, everyone else had gone to bed, and they were still sitting by the fire, holding each other. Harry had missed the way Ginny felt in his arms.

"Let's never be apart again," said Harry, as they broke a passionate kiss. "I love you too much not to have you near me."

"No argument here," grinned Ginny. "I love you too."

Harry kissed Ginny again, he wasn't sure how many times he had kissed her that day, but it wasn't enough. It could never be enough.

A while later, Ginny got up from the couch. "We should probably go to bed, it's late, and you look tired, Harry," said Ginny.

He shook his head and stood up. The time had come, but he was very nervous. "Ginny, I have something for you," said Harry.

Ginny looked at him. "A present? That's sweet Harry, you didn't have to get me anything," said Ginny with a smile. "That doesn't mean I don't want it," she added with a laugh.

Harry grinned, as she moved closer to him. They were standing right in front of the couch. "Do you know what a promise ring is?" inquired Harry.

"I think it's a ring given to signify a vow or…" said Ginny. Her eyes went wide the implication of the question was dawning on her. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Harry could see unshed tears glistening in her beautiful brown eyes. Harry reached in his pocket, and removed a small box. He held it up and opened it.

Ginny gasped when she saw the heart shaped emerald ring in the box. "It's beautiful, Harry," whispered Ginny breathlessly.

Harry took the ring out of the box, and put the box back in his pocket. He reached down and gently lifted her right hand. "Ginny, I gave you my heart…it seems like a long time ago, but now I want to make it official," said Harry, holding the ring up so she could read the inscription. She read it, and he could see the recognition in her eyes. "That was what I said to you after I told you I loved you the first time." Harry knew she remembered. He knew she would never forget that. "This ring is my promise to you. I'm not ready to take the next step yet. My life has been so crazy. I'm not ready for that. But I do know I want us to be together forever. So, this ring is my promise that someday, when we're both ready, we'll take that step together." Harry took a breath. "So, what do you say?" he asked. On some levels he was nervous about how she would react. On others, he knew exactly how she'd react.

"I do…I mean…I will…I mean…yes…I promise. Oh Harry," said Ginny with an enormous smile. She could barely get the words out she was trembling so much.

Harry had to hold Ginny's hand still to put the emerald ring on her finger. His hands were shaking too, but he got the ring on her finger. It sparkled in the light of the fire. It looked even brighter once it was on her finger.

"It's beautiful, Harry," said Ginny. "It must have cost a fortune."

Harry took a breath. "Actually it didn't," said Harry slowly. "It belonged to my mother. I found it in Sirius' vault at Gringotts." Harry reached into his other pocket and pulled out his mother's note and handed it to Ginny.

Ginny read the note with tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry I never had the chance to meet her and tell her how wonderful her son is," said Ginny.

"I wish you could have met her too," smiled Harry sadly. "I wish I had met her. I only have bits and pieces of memories." Harry pushed the thought aside and smiled. "It's funny that I would choose the same words my father did to tell the girl I love how I felt." A single tear slid down his cheek at the thought.

Ginny flung her arms around his neck and hugged him. "I love you, Harry," said Ginny.

"I love you too, Ginny," said Harry.

Harry pulled her back from him and kissed her. They fall back onto the couch in each other's arms, Lily's note falling to the floor. Sleep would have to wait.

The next morning, Harry came down to the kitchen. It was just after eight o'clock in the morning. It was a beautiful day. Ginny was sitting at the kitchen table telling her mother about the promise ring, and about Harry's mother's note and the inscription. Mrs. Weasley was crying a little and making breakfast. Harry had been awake most of the night. He was almost past wanting to sleep. He tried to sleep, but as usual, he dreamt of Sirius falling through the veil, and Voldemort murdering his parents. His mother's cries as she pleaded with Voldemort to take her and not her son still echoed through his mind. He knew he would have to tell Ginny, if he didn't, Mrs. Weasley would.

"Good morning, Harry, dear," said Mrs. Weasley with a smile that clearly communicated that Ginny had told her about the ring.

"Good morning," said Harry, trying to sound cheerful, but feeling anything but.

Mrs. Weasley went over and hugged Harry, whispering in his ear. "Harry, you've made me very happy, but don't think I've forgotten what you said you would do this morning," Mrs. Weasley reminded him.

Mrs. Weasley backed away, and Harry nodded.

Harry sat next to Ginny, and leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, love," said Harry, mustering a weak smile.

"Good morning, love," replied Ginny with a smile, glancing down at the emerald ring.

"Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, I'm just going to go take in the washing," said Mrs. Weasley, exiting the kitchen, with a meaningful glance in Harry's direction.

"Are you okay, Harry?" asked Ginny, turning to him when her mother had left. She slipped her hand into his as Harry just stared down at the table.

Harry sighed, she knew him too well. "Will I ever be able to keep anything from you?" asked Harry.

"I doubt it," said Ginny with a grin. "I know you too well."

Harry sighed. "I have to tell you something," said Harry. "You're not going to be very happy with me."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Does this have anything to do with why you look like you haven't slept in days?" asked Ginny, a look of concern on her face.

"You noticed," said Harry with a sigh. "You know, you're beautiful when you worry about me." Harry smiled knowing full well that changing the subject wouldn't help.

"Thank you, that's sweet," drawled Ginny in a mocking tone. "Now tell me what's wrong. You really look like you've haven't slept in several days."

"I've been having nightmares," said Harry, taking a deep breath.

Ginny looked at him with concern. "For how long, Harry?" pushed Ginny.

"Four," said Harry swallowing hard, and looking down at the table in front of him.

"Four days?" asked Ginny sympathetically.

"Weeks," said Harry. Her reaction was instantaneous.

"FOUR WEEKS! A MONTH! THEY STARTED BEFORE I LEFT! WHY DIDN"T YOU TELL ME?" bellowed Ginny, as she stood from her chair so fast, that it nearly tipped over. Her famous temper was in full force. Harry was amazed how much she sounded like her mother when she was upset.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," said Harry in a defeated tone, still unable to look at her. "I didn't want you to worry about me while you were at school."

Ginny pulled her chair, which had slid about three feet away when she stood, back to the table and sat down. "Tell me everything," said Ginny. It was an order, not a request. Harry would not be foolish enough to argue.

Harry told Ginny about the nightmares, the Silencing Charm, the Invigoration Charm, how he'd forgotten to use the charm two nights ago. He told her all of it.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," sighed Harry dejectedly, as he finally summoned the courage to look at her. "You worry so much about me, I didn't want you to worry about this too, and there really isn't anything anyone can do about it."

Ginny had a furious look in her eyes, but after a moment, it softened into concern.

"Okay, I know you made a promise last night, but I need you to make another one," said Ginny calmly.

"Anything," said Harry. He was relieved he wasn't getting yelled at anymore.

"Promise me you will never keep something like that from me again," said Ginny.

"I promise," said Harry, "and I'm sorry." He stared down at the table again. He didn't want to look her in the eyes. He felt terrible.

"Hey," said Ginny, reaching her hand up to his chin, and tilting his head to look at her. "I love you. I want to help you, and I can't do that if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"I'm sorry," sighed Harry. "I just didn't want to worry you."

Ginny stood up, sat in his lap and put her arms around him. Harry wished they could just hold each other all the time. Having her arms around him was the only thing that made him feel better.

"Tell me what I can do," said Ginny, tightening her grip on him.

The thought in the back of his mind seemed so silly. He had thought about it most of the last two nights when he wasn't able to sleep.

He pulled her away and looked into Ginny's eyes. "I was just thinking…I was too young to remember my parents' funeral. Sirius never even had one," said Harry sadly. "I think the reason I can't be around Teddy is that I'm feeling bad for myself. I look at him, and see myself. I lost my parents when I was a baby too. I never got to say goodbye." Harry paused. "Would you come with me to Godric's Hollow? I just feel like I need to say some things, but I don't want to go alone. I know it sounds silly, and we've attended so many funerals, I hate to ask you to go to another cemetery."

"It's not silly at all," said Ginny sweetly. "Of course I will." Ginny put her arms around him again, and he returned the embrace.

Even if Ginny did think it was silly, she never would have told him that. He pulled her out of their embrace and looked into her eyes again. "Ginny, have I told you how much I love you yet today?" asked Harry with a grin.

"I don't think so," said Ginny with a smile.

He pulled her close, and kissed her. They only broke apart when they heard what sounded like someone clearing their throat in the doorway.

"Hi, Mum, done with the laundry already?" asked Ginny, stifling a laugh. Harry could feel the heat rise in his face.

"Yes," said her mother going back to finishing making breakfast, not commenting on what she had walked in on. Ginny got off his lap and sat back in the chair next to Harry.

"Mrs. Weasley, I told Ginny about the nightmares," Harry informed her.

"I knew you would keep your promise," said Mrs. Weasley with a smile.

Harry leaned over and whispered to Ginny while her mother was at the stove. "How about we leave at one o'clock? I'd like a little time to think about what I want to say," said Harry. She nodded. "Don't tell anyone where we're going, I don't want anyone to make a big deal about it." Ginny nodded again.

He leaned over one more time while her mother's back was turned. "I think we got interrupted before I got to say this," said Harry. "I love you."

After breakfast, Harry walked out in the garden and took a seat under a tree. He tried to put his thoughts together. He tried to piece together all the things he wanted to say about his parents, and about Sirius. It seemed so simple when he came up with the idea, but it wasn't as simple as he had thought it would be. How could a few words express how much he loved them and how much they loved him? How could he express how much he missed them?

At noon, Harry went back into the house to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley made him a sandwich. After he ate, he got up to go upstairs to change his clothes.

Mrs. Weasley stopped him. "Ginny said you two were going out for a while this afternoon," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes," replied Harry. He really didn't want to make a big deal about where they were going.

"I'll see you later then. I'm going shopping, and Andromeda took Teddy to buy some new clothes," said Mrs. Weasley.

Harry went upstairs and changed into his dress robes. The thought drifted across his mind that he and Ginny had the house to himself, but he quickly pushed it away. He came back down at one o'clock, to find Ginny waiting for him in the kitchen. She was holding a bouquet of lilies and roses, and was wearing a beautiful dark blue dress. Stunning was the only way to describe how she looked.

"I thought you might like to bring some flowers," said Ginny.

Ginny thought of everything. "They're beautiful," said Harry. "Thank you. You're beautiful too." He leaned down and kissed her softly.

Ginny smiled at him. "Are you ready to go?" she asked.

Harry nodded. They walked to the edge of The Burrow. With each step, Harry became less sure he wanted to go, and each step became more and more difficult. He knew Ginny wouldn't let him turn back now. He began to question why he was going. He still didn't understand it, and it had been his idea.

They Apperated just outside the graveyard in Godric's Hollow and made their way to the white marble headstone that bore his parents' names. They stood there for a few moments. Harry's mind was still swimming.

Harry placed the flowers in front of the headstone. "Hi," he said weakly. Coming was a mistake, he thought. He looked at the headstone with his parents' names engraved on it. The date that was always etched in his mind, October thirty-first 1981, the day Voldemort murdered them, and the quote, '_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death_.'

"Harry. Just talk to them," said Ginny encouragingly, giving his hand a squeeze. She must have seen the hesitation in his eyes. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter, you have a wonderful son. I'm sure you are as proud of him as I am."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Mum, Dad, this is Ginny, my girlfriend. I gave her your ring, Mum," whispered Harry. He paused and smiled. "She loves me, Mum, and she makes me very happy. Sirius…can tell you all about her." He felt Ginny squeeze his hand again. He hadn't really planned to say any of that, it was just the only thing that was coming to him to say, and it just came out. Somehow it seemed the right thing to say. He did wish so much they were here so he could introduce Ginny to them.

He could half imagine the meeting, introducing Ginny to his parents. Harry was quite sure his father would have taken him aside and commented on how he had fallen head over heels for a redhead when he was at Hogwarts too. He knew they would have loved Ginny.

Before he could think of what else to say, he heard the sound of someone walking up behind them. He turned around and saw Ron and Hermione. "What are you doing here?" Harry questioned them, surprised by their presence.

Hermione smiled, more brightly than he had seen her smile since after she had kissed Ron in the Room of Requirement. She came towards him and hugged him tightly.

"We heard you were coming and why," said Hermione as she pulled back. It was obvious she read the confusion on his face. She nodded slightly towards Ginny.

"We thought maybe you could use some more company," said Ron, as he gave Harry a hug. "We brought some friends."

Harry looked up and realized Ron and Hermione were not alone. Behind them were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Fleur, George, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Luna, and Neville. Mrs. Tonks was there too, holding Teddy in her arms. They were all there, all the people who meant so much to him, all his friends and family.

Harry opened his mouth, but he didn't speak, he was nearly overcome with emotion. He turned to Ginny, taking her face in his hands and gazing into her eyes. "Did you do this?" asked Harry, already knowing the answer.

Ginny nodded, smiling at him, her love radiating from her beautiful brown eyes. Those eyes could see into his soul, he thought, into the very depths of his being.

"I thought you could use all the support you could get," said Ginny. "When I told them, they all insisted on being here. Charlie couldn't make it, he was sorry. He would have come if he could. Percy is working and well…he's Percy."

Harry leaned down and kissed her softly, and thought of what he would like to do if he didn't have an audience. Behind him he heard what sounded like a bird flapping its wings. He turned, and there, perched majestically on the headstone, was Fawkes.

Harry turned back to Ginny, who merely shrugged. She had nothing to do with this. He took a step closer to the phoenix, and reached out to stroke his scarlet and gold feathers.

"Hi, Fawkes," said Harry with a smile. "Standing in for your master?" he whispered to the phoenix, as much a statement as a question. Fawkes made a soft noise. "I'll take that as a yes," said Harry.

Harry turned and looked at all of his family and friends before him. Suddenly it was like their strength was his own, and he found the words he needed. He talked about his parents and Sirius, about who they were, about how much they all loved him and he loved them. He talked about how unfair it was that they were gone, but that he knew that they had all died to protect him, and he knew they did not regret that. Each word seemed to lessen the weight on his heart and heal his soul, even as tears trickled down his cheeks. Ginny held his hand the whole time.

When Harry was done, he thanked them all, and hugged each of them in turn. He could never tell them how much this meant. He even held Teddy for a minute. Every trace of the sadness he had felt when around Teddy was gone.

After everyone except Ginny had left, Harry returned to the headstone where Fawkes was still perched. "I won't be seeing you again, will I, Fawkes?" asked Harry stroking the phoenix's head, but even as he did, Harry felt that he would see him again, one day. He wasn't sure why, but it felt like this wasn't the last time.

"I don't know where you've been, and I don't know where you are going," smiled Harry sadly, "but if you see your master, please tell him…thank you." Harry could swear he saw understanding in the phoenix's eyes. It didn't surprise him a bit.

Harry didn't know it of course, but Fawkes would appear to him again, five more times in fact. He would be there for the four most important days of Harry's life. On his wedding day, he would look up to see his beautiful bride walking down the aisle, and see Fawkes perched on a chair in the back row. The phoenix would also visit Harry on each of the days their three children were born. Then Fawkes would visit Harry one final time, at the single darkest moment of his life.

Fawkes leaned his head toward Harry, and a single tear fell from his eye onto the back of Harry's hand.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I don't have an injury to heal, Fawkes," said Harry. As Harry looked at the phoenix, he realized why Fawkes had done that. Fawkes was not trying to heal a physical injury he was trying to help heal his heart, to heal his soul.

"I appreciate it Fawkes, but I don't think it works that way," said Harry with a smile. "Thanks though."

Fawkes spread his wings and shot into the air, flying away. Harry watched him go, until he couldn't see him anymore.

Harry could not believe it. It had been perfect. Harry turned to Ginny. "What did I do to deserve you?" asked Harry, looking into her eyes.

Ginny smiled up at him, "You read my mind, Harry," said Ginny. "I was going to ask you the same question."

It was a few nights after the trip to Godric's Hollow, just after midnight. Harry sat on the couch in The Burrow in front of the fire. He wasn't tired, the nightmares had stopped, and he was sleeping again. He still felt it sometimes, the guilt, pain, and loss. He knew it would always be with him, but it would not overwhelm him.

Harry heard a noise from the stairs, and looked up to see Mrs. Weasley with Teddy in her arms. Teddy was crying.

"Is everything all right?" asked Harry concernedly.

"Yes, everything is fine," replied Mrs. Weasley, as she rocked Teddy slightly. "Teddy just doesn't seem to want to go to sleep tonight. I told Andromeda I would take him so she can get some sleep."

"If you want to go to sleep, I'll sit up with him," said Harry, getting up from the couch, and walking towards her.

"That's all right dear," said Mrs. Weasley with a smile. "That's very kind of you."

"No, really, I would like to. I think I'm okay to spend some time with my godson now. Besides, during the day, the girls are always hogging him," Harry said with a laugh.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him and nodded. She placed the crying baby in his arms. Teddy stopped crying almost immediately.

"My word," said Mrs. Weasley with a smile. "You're a natural."

Harry gave her a smile, then walked back to the couch and sat down, cradling Teddy in his arms. Harry hadn't noticed, but their brief discussion had been witnessed. Ginny was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley turned and saw her daughter, smiled, and went back up the stairs to bed.

Harry looked down at the tiny baby in his arms. Teddy had stopped crying, but he certainly didn't appear to want to sleep. He was wide-awake. His hair had been pink when he was crying, but was now a pale shade of blue.

So many things went through Harry's mind as he looked at his godson. Although he barely knew him, he loved his godson, and knew he would always be there for Teddy when he needed him. He thought about Teddy's parents, Tonks and Remus. Then his mind turned to a different thought and a smile crept across Harry's face.

She walked over to him, and sat down beside him, snuggling up against him. "Knut for your thoughts," smiled Ginny.

"I was just thinking about what it would be like someday to hold my own child in my arms," said Harry softly.

"Oh," said Ginny, in mild surprise. "So tell me, have you picked out the lucky witch to be the child's mother yet?" Sarcasm was dripping off every word.

"Not sure. She's probably blonde though," said Harry, with an expression of seriousness on his face.

Ginny placed her hands on her heart, feigning pain at his words.

Harry laughed. "Actually, I have the girl all picked out," smiled Harry. "It seems the men in my family have a weakness for beautiful redheads." Harry grinned. "Besides, I've already made her a promise." Harry leaned down and kissed her softly. Teddy cried a little, and they pulled apart.

"Sorry about that, mate," said Harry to Teddy with a smile. "You know, Teddy, someday you will meet a girl who you will give your heart to, the way I gave mine to your Aunt Ginny. You won't be able to go five minutes without doing that either. Trust me."

Ginny cuddled next to Harry smiling at the baby in his arms.

"You know, it's funny," said Harry. "Just a short time ago, I was walking into the Forbidden Forest to die, and now, for the first time in my life, I can see a real future where I won't have to constantly fight just to stay alive."

"And what does that future look like?" smiled Ginny as she looked at Teddy.

"The only thing I've ever wanted was a family," said Harry with a smile. "Back in first year, when I looked into the Mirror of Erised, I just saw myself with my whole family. I don't…I don't think I would see my family anymore though."

"If the Mirror of Erised was here right now, what would you see?" asked Ginny, as she laid her head on his shoulder.

Harry grinned. "What do I need the Mirror of Erised for?" asked Harry. "You're right here."

Ginny stared at him with a look of shock on her face. "Wow. That just might be the most romantic thing I've heard in my entire life," said Ginny. "What have you done with Harry Potter?"

Harry laughed. "I don't know, maybe Teddy is a good influence on me."

"Don't tell Hermione that, or she'll make Ron hold Teddy all the time," said Ginny, and they both laughed.

"I don't think it's Teddy that is having the good influence on me. I think it's you," said Harry. He looked down at Teddy. "See what girls can do to you, Teddy?" Ginny laughed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Ginny spoke, "I'm really happy you are coming back to school next year."

"I'm looking forward to it," replied Harry. "I'll get to be just an average student, learning, being with my friends, and spending time with my girlfriend, like thousands of students have done at Hogwarts. Like my father did."

"An average student who defeated the greatest dark wizard of all time and saved the world in the process," Ginny corrected him sarcastically.

Harry laughed. "Oh well, maybe everyone will forget."

"Sure," laughed Ginny. "I'm sure you're right."

"So Teddy," began Harry, turning back to the baby in his arm, "how about I tell you a story. Let's see, what story would you like to hear?"

Harry thought for a moment. Then the perfect story came to him. It was a story he knew he would tell his godson over and over again, until Teddy could recite it by heart.

A single tear rolled down Harry's cheek. Ginny brushed it away tenderly. "Are you all right?" asked Ginny.

Harry thought a moment. It might take a long time, but maybe 'The Boy Who Existed' would get to be 'The Boy Who Lived' after all. Harry smiled at Ginny. "I know it can't have been easy, listening to me talk about all the terrible things in my past." He paused. "I can never tell you how much you being there has meant to me. I don't know where I would be now if it wasn't for you."

"You don't have to say anything Harry. I love you," whispered Ginny, as she looked into his eyes. "I'd do anything for you."

He looked into her beautiful brown eyes. "I love you too, Ginny," said Harry. He paused and took a breath. "To answer your question, no…I'm not all right. Not yet. It's still hard sometimes." Harry paused and smiled at her. "Someday I will be all right though." It was the first time he had thought that. He would be all right, in time. "Can you wait a while for the answer you want?" asked Harry. "It could be a long wait."

Ginny smiled and rested her head on Harry's shoulder. "I'll wait forever if I have to," she said. Harry could hear in her voice that she meant every word.

Harry turned back to the tiny baby in his arms. Teddy was still wide-awake. "Now, how about that story? I have a great story to tell you, Teddy. This is the story of three great and powerful wizards. They were more than just powerful wizards though…they were best friends." Harry paused. "No, they were more than that…they were brothers." Harry smiled. "They liked to call themselves, Prongs, Padfoot, and Moony."

**To be continued in Harry Potter and the Legend of the Twelve**

**Description**

19 years after Voldemort's defeat, Hermione is given a 1300-year-old memory that will lead Harry and his friends down a path down he thought ended long ago.

As Albus and Rose head off to their first year at Hogwarts, they have no idea what awaits them. Their parents have a secret, and Albus, Rose, and James are about to find out what that is. A chance meeting on the train with an orphaned witch from California will change Albus's life forever, while back in London, in a seldom-used room in the Department of Mysteries, someone from Harry's past has returned to the world of the living.

Are Harry, his friends, and their children The Twelve prophesized by Merlin who will have to face the worst evil ever known to save the world? Could an ancient prophecy mean that the Dark Lord will rise again? Is eleven-year-old Albus really falling in love? Why has an old friend returned from beyond the grave? Can Harry save Albus from the fate that was nearly his own? Harry Potter thought his destiny was fulfilled and behind him. He was wrong.

**Author's Note**

This is a sequel to "Chapter 37, Picking up the Pieces," which is my take on the unwritten 37th Chapter of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows". I would recommend reading that before reading this, as there are quite a few references to that story.

This story is meant as the eighth Harry Potter story, picking up where the Deathly Hallows Epilogue left off, and should, unless I made a mistake, follow canon, though some canon has come out since I began the story that does not fit into my story. This is the first of two stories.

This story takes place in my interpretation of JKR's magical world. I've always felt that JKR has written the children in the story to be more mature than children of the same age in the "real world". I've written them that way as well. Without giving away elements of the story, I would encourage you to read it all before saying, "that sounds ridiculous". There may be an explanation to come. I'd also say, it's fiction…some of it is bound to be a little ridiculous.

This is my final revision of this story (I hope). I would like to thank my Betas, XxXV1kk1XxX on , and Rachel, PenguinsWillReignSupreme on the forums, for all their hard work.


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